Designation? What Designation?
by shywr1ter
Summary: Extended episode one in a Season 2,ML AU. Six weeks after Max's 'death,' cousin Tony DiNozzo comes to the rescue, taking on first Manticore and, after reuniting Max and Logan - taking on Lydecker. DA crossover with NCIS.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: Five weeks after Max's "death" in the S1 episode, _And Jesus Brought a Casserole._

**Unless you've read **_**Concurrent Jurisdiction, **_**this one may take a bit of explanation:** Tony DiNozzo (NCIS) is Logan's cousin, and still with NCIS in 2020. The cousins have always been close, even if they had been geographically distant from each other in the past several years. This story begins a few months after Tony came to Seattle due to the circumstances raised in _Concurrent Jurisdiction. _By the end of that story, we've learned that Tony knew about Lydecker and Manticore from a 2009 assignment for NCIS, and that he realized Max is an X-5, all of which he revealed to Logan. Also, by the time he left to return to DC, he had figured out that Logan is _Eyes Only_ – but has not told anyone that he knows.

My sincere thanks to **Mari83** who once again served as sounding board, sleep-deprived eager reader, cheerleader, and therapist. Thanks so much for once again easing my posting anxiety! Also thanks to those who maintain DarkAngelFan (dot) com and the episode transcripts there – so useful for "research!"

**Designation? What Designation?**

I.

It had all started with a phone message – or, rather, it was how Tony DiNozzo was pulled into events and back to Seattle. He'd been out in the field since very early that morning and when, close to midnight, he came back to NCIS, he discovered a phone message e-mailed from the central operator. He'd had a call from a woman named Cindy McEachin, who needed him to call as soon as possible, day or night. He wracked his brain but knew he didn't know the name – until he recognized her area code as Seattle's...

_Cindy ... _he realized immediately, with the location. _Max's friend, Original Cindy ..._

The fact that she was calling, rather than Logan or Max, raised a immediate, irrational fear in his gut...

He grabbed his cell phone, heading to the elevators and out the door as he dialed, both for some privacy and a sudden feeling of claustrophobic fear and helplessness that the District was so far away from Seattle...

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was uncertain, emotional. Maybe she was reacting to the phone number, too...

"Cindy – it's Tony DiNozzo. I got your message..."

"Oh, Tony..." her voice was now full of pain and emotion, "I'm sorry to call an' all, but I didn't know what else to do..."

The sound of it, coupled now with her words, made DiNozzo's blood run cold. He forced himself into the emotionlessness of his autopilot investigator mode and said evenly, "Cindy, it's okay, I want to help. What's happened?"

"Max ... " she started, and was silent for another moment before she continued. "Max is dead," she managed, as Tony felt the words cut through him, "an' Logan is torn up over it, he's getting worse by the day..."

_Not injured, then, himself,_ Tony presumed for the moment, in a guilty, emotional rush of relief. "Tell me what happened, Cindy," he pressed, turning his collar up against the wind as he stood outside in the nighttime chill. _Oh, but without Max...? Logan must be devastated..._

"It's complicated," she hedged, "but Max was killed – shot – an' Logan has been like a zombie – no food for days, no sleep the first week, and then hell-bent on finding the people who killed her. He still ain't eatin,' he still ain't sleepin,' an' I know he ain't lookin' after himself like he should, all that goes on with a body that's been shot like his was. He's livin' on coffee and adrenaline and just don't care what happens to him, he's all about finding..." she hesitated, as if she suddenly realized she might be saying too much, "about finding who did this to her..."

Tony grimaced to himself, new threads of fear for his cousin tightening his chest – the threat of Manticore's cold willingness to exterminate anyone getting in their way ... and the threat of this latest pain and loss forcing Logan so far over the edge that he'd hunt Lydecker or die trying. "Manticore," he breathed. It wasn't a question...

Cindy paused, slightly, before responding, tentatively, "you know about them."

"Yeah, I do," he said, heavily. _Logan, don't do this ..._ he closed his eyes slowly, sickened by the news.

"Then you know they're some serious motherfuckers and you know if Logan thinks he can go after 'em he's as crazy as he's lookin' these days. And he's starting to think that maybe Max isn't dead after all – here she dies in his arms, shot through the chest, and the man is starting to think she just walked it off and is in hiding, somewhere ... or worse..."

"Cindy, how long ago was Max shot?" Tony asked abruptly. Until that moment he had assumed it had just happened...

"Nine weeks yesterday..."

_Nine weeks.._. Tony's gut took another hit to learn that he hadn't heard from Logan by now with such painful, tragic news. _He'd have called if he was handling things okay,_ he knew...

"Tony, he ought to be gettin' on with things by now," Cindy's concerned voice pressed him, "at least the basics – not gettin' all crazy and more delusional every day."

"You're right." Tony started walking again, but now back inside the building, back to his desk. "Look, Cindy – I'm glad you called. I'm going to do whatever I can to wrap up a few things here and get out to Seattle at the very first chance I can – I hope it won't be more than a day or two. Can you keep an eye...?"

"Been doin' it – some of us from work – me, Sketchy, the other guys – we've been sort of taking turns dropping in on him, you know, checking in when we're out on runs in the area. Max would kick our asses if we didn't watch out for her boy..." The woman's strong voice suddenly quavered again, reminded of her loss.

"She would," DiNozzo agreed softly, "but thank you from me too, for looking out for him. I'll call you when I know how soon I can get there – we'll work something out." He ended the call and immediately went to work wrapping up loose ends, delegating assignments and cross-checking field comm lines before preparing, at 3:42 a.m., a formal leave request, filling in the appropriate "family emergency" information. He knew how Gibbs felt about family and knew that his rare request would be honored. Luckily his work was in between major assignments and could be carried by the senior agent on his team if he was away for a few days.

Running upstairs to Gibbs' office, he left the request form on his secretary's desk, with a note asking to see him as soon as he was available. All that accomplished, rather than going home for the night, he settled back in at his desk to wait for Gibbs, as he did, sending an e-mail to the FBI's SAC in Chicago to call in a favor and dialing up highly classified, supposedly encrypted files relating to Manticore that he'd managed to gather over time...

II.

DiNozzo walked down the corridor though Sea-Tac's security and out into the arrival area where he was surprised to see the woman he remembered as Original Cindy waiting there for him – with a tall, baby-faced policeman standing next to her. She looked relieved to see him, her recent loss still clear in her eyes.

"Hey, Cindy," Tony came close and, in the circumstances, gave her a hug, knowing she needed it, knowing it might fortify him. He pulled back to look at her, looking for some indication of what lay ahead. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, sugah, a lot better with you here, to look out for Logan. The boy needs someone to get through to him, and you two bein' so close..."

Tony just nodded, and not feeling glib enough to say anything reassuring at the moment, nodded toward the officer. "Who's your friend?"

"Friend of a friend," she managed a wan smile, rueful embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "I wanted to come pick you up, but most of us common folk don't have ready access to wheels the way your cousin does. So ... I got desperate-- an' I called a mutual friend." She smiled a toward the officer, who held out a hand to Tony.

"Officer Jason Elco, sir. Detective Sung said to send his regrets that he couldn't come himself, and to tell you if you need anything at all while you're here in Seattle..."

Tony's face relaxed in appreciation, and he offered his hand in return. "Thank you, officer ... for the ride, and for bringing Original Cindy." _Logan's little posse again,_ Tony realized._ Thank God he has them all..._

"My pleasure, sir..." the young cop tipped his head slightly, squeaky clean and eager to help out a federal agent. "Are we ready to go?"

Tony glanced down to Cindy, who nodded. "All set," Tony confirmed, adjusting his carry-on more comfortably on his shoulder as they set off through the airport. "I'll try to give Matt a call myself too, but tell him I appreciate him sparing you – and his invitation to call if needed."

"I was going off duty anyway, sir, glad to help." The cop seemed genuinely sympathetic. "The detective said you both might use a bit of help..."

Original Cindy snorted softly, trying to summon a bit of humor to lighten the mood. "I know that's right, when Original Cindy has to call the po-po for help..." she muttered, but her smile didn't last. It was just too hard, with all that had gone on. Tony's look to her was an understanding one.

"Not a bad idea." He encouraged, "Matt's come to the rescue before, as I understand it."

"That he has..." Cindy nodded... and fell silent.

They both did. The silence was awkward, but it was even more awkward to discuss what had happened with the officer in the car with them. Cindy had already filled Tony in on everything she knew when he'd called her back to say he was on his way; Logan was still mourning, shell-shocked; not eating, maybe compromising his health. _He never called, never let me know that he'd lost Max, _Tony worried again. He would have hoped that his cousin would call him with such news, even if he did tend to withdraw into himself at times like this, when he lost his parents, when he'd been shot ... yet their recent visits had brought the cousins closer than ever, and DiNozzo had hoped that his cousin would turn to him let him help, instead of shutting down...

He must not have said anything to Bennett or their Aunt Margo, either; Tony was certain that if Bennett knew, either from his mother or from Logan himself, he would have phoned. _Cindy said that even the people at Jam Pony don't know about what happened,_ he reasoned, _maybe because Manticore was involved? Why did Logan insist that Cindy not tell the others the truth – because of some safety or security concerns? Or because he was still holding some insane hope that Max wasn't really gone?_

DiNozzo again sorted through the stunning events that he'd learned in the eighteen hours since Cindy had first called – from his own assault into government files using a combination of his security clearance and a talented hacker on the NCIS staff, he found that Manticore was still indeed alive and well and had developed not one but two facilities on the outskirts of Seattle in the past few months. One, apparently, had been breached and shut down very recently, an old silo at the municipal line. The other, about an hour outside of Seattle long on the books as a VA hospital, carried a good deal of recent activity relating to personnel changes, funding requirements – and security provisions.

That in itself would be enough to raise suspicions. But add to that the flurry of intel and additional security in the facilities over the past few months, all thrown into hyper-drive by the public outing of Manticore by an underground, cyber-vigilante based in Seattle called Eyes Only...

And now, as Tony headed back to Seattle with the bike messenger and a cop with whom she'd hitched a ride, Tony wondered if Cindy also knew, as he did, that his own cousin was Eyes Only. DiNozzo had figured it out on his own and had never even admitted to his cousin that he knew. Even as Logan skirted the edges of sanity he had managed to pull off an Eyes Only hack, telling the public about Project Manticore and what their very own government had been doing for the past two decades...

At least for now, Tony wouldn't get close to spilling the beans about Eyes Only, in case Cindy wasn't in _that_ deep on all the facts. Either way, they were spinning their way across Seattle to see Logan, now on the 'enemies' list' of an awakened and deadly Manticore. _Not for long, if I can help it,_ Tony vowed, _because no matter whether this is outside the box or not, even if Gibbs fires me for going off on my own mission with unauthorized use of government resources – this has to be done. For Logan ... for the public, at large ... for all the living, breathing products of these demented experiments ... for Max..._

**To be continued.**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: See chapter 1 for story and background information. As you've seen, this story (essentially episode 1 of this AU-S2) borrows much, but not all, of DA's plot lines up through the early part of "Designate This."

**Thanks** to everyone reading; a special thanks to those of you who have reviewed or commented. The group of DA readers-and-reviewers on FFN seems to be dwindling in recent months, but I was encouraged to see how many new "faces," as well as familiar ones, have stopped by to read, to add alerts, or to send a PM. It's nice to know you're out there.

_Any and all comments, criticisms, reviews & general input welcome. _

**Designation? What Designation?**

III.

On their arrival at Fogle Towers, Officer Elco pulled the police cruiser into the parking garage and into an empty stall, turning off the engine. As Tony reached for his door handle, Original Cindy was already leaning toward the front seat. "Thanks for the ride, Officer. I know you gave up your free time..." She stopped, seeming lost for words suddenly, then went on, "an' you don' have to wait; Original Cindy can find her way back when she's done here..."

"I'll wait a while." The officer's eyes softened a little as he glanced back toward her, then to Tony, understanding from the discussion earlier that both these people were concerned about Detective Sung's friend, high above them all in the penthouse upstairs. "You may not be all that long, and it's getting dark out there." He wasn't going to add that if things were that wrong with the guy, it might not be a bad idea for him to stick around for a few minutes be sure they didn't find him needing some emergency assistance, right away...

Cindy shrugged but looked as if she felt better, having him wait. Tony got out to stand by the cruiser, watching the determined young woman getting out on the opposite side, not making eye contact with him, not allowing further discussion about her going upstairs with him. She stepped to the officer's open window, though, to allow him one last chance to leave. "Okay, but you know whenever you want to leave – it's good. You already done more than you needed..."

"Better go see your friend," the officer said, nodding toward the elevator.

Original Cindy looked at him, long, and a ghost of a smile crossed her face. "You' a good man, Boo." She said, and a small smirk lightened her worried face just a little. "Whatever is the world coming to?"

At the officer's grin in response, Cindy patted his arm in thanks and walked around the car toward the elevator. At his open door, Tony watched her for only a moment before leaning down to speak to Elco, too. "Officer, thank you. And thanks for sticking around – it should only be a few minutes..."

"Sounds like it. Hope your cousin's okay, Agent DoNozzo."

"Yeah, me too..." Tony murmured, but then looked back to the young cop. "Tell Matt thanks, and that I hope I can say hello before I go back. And thanks again, Elco –"

"Glad I could help, sir." He paused a moment, then added, hopefully, "Good luck."

"Yeah," Tony nodded, straightening, knowing he needed to focus, to be ready for whatever he might find. Not much different than the last time he'd arrived here, he realized, back in Seattle for the first time in several years, knowing he'd find his favorite cousin in a wheelchair and not sure how he'd be able to handle it. Back then, the thought that he had to steel himself to face his cousin made a tough situation even tougher. But it had all come out okay, that trip, and in some ways, the cousins had actually ended up closer than ever.

But as he came around to join Original Cindy at the elevator, he realized that, especially for Logan, even bouncing back from a devastating physical injury would be easier than bouncing back to reality, if he'd decided it was just too painful to face it now...

As he came to her side, Tony watched Cindy pressed the elevator button impatiently, already lit from the first two times she'd hit it. She had insisted on riding up to the penthouse with him, saying that he needed her along in case Logan didn't answer the door. He had to admit it made sense; she had Max's key to his place, left behind along with Max's other personal effects on the night she'd left to go rescue her sister.

But Cindy had another half dozen reasons she wanted to go along, all of them churning in her thoughts as the elevator finally opened to let them in. She wanted to check in on Logan again, to be sure he was okay; she wanted to be there for Tony, for when he'd first see his cousin and see how around the bend the boy had become... to be there in case she could do anything for the man her Boo loved so much, and who was hurting so badly from losing her, and who might be a bit rattled to see his cousin just show up after not telling Tony what had happened...

They rode up in silence until Cindy offered suddenly, "you know, even if you're here – if Logan needs anything, or if _you_ do, or if you need any of us to help with ... whatever ... we're here for you, aiight? I don't know what he needs or what you got in mind, but ... Logan's a good man, an' he's helped out a lot of people, me and mine included. So anything we can do..."

Tony's worried expression smoothed slightly in his appreciation as he turned to her. "Thanks, Cindy. I hope I won't need to ask, but it's good knowing you're all here, if I need to call in some reinforcements." He watched as she nodded, looking away again, a picture of sober concern. _What has she seen in him that has her so worried?_ Tony wondered again.

The elevator opened almost silently onto the penthouse floor, and Cindy crossed the hall to Logan's door, rapping on it loudly and calling to him as she did. "Logan? Hey, it's me, Boo. Just wantin' to see if you ever bought yourself some groceries..." At Tony's glance to her, his eyes asking if that too had been a problem, she shrugged and looked back at the closed door, listening for sounds inside. "C'mon, Logan..." she added softly, more to herself than to the man on the other side of the door.

The seconds dragged by silently, no sound in the corridor, no sound in the penthouse. After a few more moments Cindy dug into her pocket, ready to pull out her keys, when the door suddenly swung open and a gaunt, harried-looking Logan opened the door, distractedly. "I'm fine, Cindy; I got some..." His eyes, red-rimmed and feverish, suddenly widened at the sight of his cousin. "Tony?" His eyes suddenly misted slightly, as if his cousin's appearance reminded him that he – and things – were very far from 'fine.' "How...? What are you doing here?" He stared at his cousin, trying to process his unexpected appearance. He made no move to let them in.

But Tony was just as stricken as his cousin was, not only at seeing firsthand the signs of an unhealthy, desperate obsession taking Logan over, but at finding him on his feet, standing, _walking_, as if his shattered spine and resulting paralysis were all a bad dream. Shaking off the obvious questions for now, and blatantly ignoring the fact that his cousin was leaving them standing at his doorstep, Tony took a step or two past him, coming inside, and said evenly, genuine concern in his voice, "I wanted to be here, Logan – Cindy told me what happened..."

As Logan turned to follow DiNozzo's movements, his glittery green eyes welled again and his voice thickened, "I didn't want you involved in this, in case..."

Tony hoped his expression conveyed only a question, and not the dread that his cousin's words caused in him. "'This,' what?" Tony asked, peering close at his cousin, seeing a depth of hurt more extreme that he'd ever seen in him, a final straw in the long ledger of all the man's pain and losses over the years, all the hurt he'd borne ... he saw, too, a edge of desperation, an obsessive, driven look of a man bent on accomplishing his mission, no matter the cost. Cindy was right. Logan seemed past caring about himself now, his previously spiky hair now long and limp, untended; his scruffy chin was now almost softened into a beard, probably unnoticed. Logan looked like a recluse close to losing his grip on rationality. DiNozzo felt a sudden chill that he might easily have been too late, if Cindy hadn't called. "What were you going to do?" he pressed gently, hoping his tone was as soothing as he intended.

Logan blinked back at him, clearly not wanting to say anything more, seeming to assess what he saw in his cousin, before him – _afraid of endangering me and others, or afraid that I might try to stop him?_ Tony wondered. Logan's look was wary, as if he were assessing an intruder who had invaded his home. Abruptly, however, Logan's expression shifted and his eyes veiled over, hiding his thoughts. With a sudden, haunted smile, Logan shrugged, "she's gone, Tony – not much I _can_ do..."

The change in Logan – and the sudden, moment to moment changes he'd just observed – made Tony's throat tighten and his mouth taste like ash. _Maybe it's just the surprise that I'm here, making it worse... _Tony tried calming himself,_ and his lack of sleep and food, maybe even dehydration ..._ DiNozzo let his eyes flicker over the unsteady figure before him and started sorting out how best to approach what he'd found. Forcing himself to proceed not as family but as an investigator, with all of the tricks and tactics he'd picked up over the years, he offered a soft smile of his own for Logan, and nodded, "so lets catch up, cuz, okay?" He swallowed hard, ready to do whatever it took, for his cousin's sake. "Cindy..." he turned to the woman still standing by in silent worry, still in the hall, watching the pair. "Thanks for the ride. I owe you... and I'll give you a call after a while, alright?"

Furrowed brow frowning a little deeper, Cindy nonetheless offered a trusting nod to the agent, and she stepped in closer. Deciding that if anyone knew how to handle what was happening with his cousin, DiNozzo would, she raised a gentle hand to Logan's arm as she looked to the agent first. "Okay, Tony. You need anything, you know where to find me. Logan?" She looked to the younger man, waiting for his eye contact before saying anything further. "Call me, y'hear?"

"Yeah, Cindy... sure..." Logan seemed to suddenly rally a bit, as if he realized he had crossed a line with these two. He tried another smile, shrugging awkwardly, but his voice trailed in a listless, false cheer. After another moment Cindy dropped her hand from his arm, looked to Tony once more, briefly, and crossed back to hit the elevator call button. As the door opened immediately for her and Cindy stepped inside, DiNozzo turned back to his cousin and pulled the door shut behind him.

"C'mon, cuz..." he said softly. "It's just us. Let's go in and talk ..."

Logan shrugged again, distractedly, but would not meet his cousin's eyes. He drew himself up straighter, breathing in deeply, and focused on his cousin's sudden presence, trying to leave behind for the moment the new information he'd gotten that might finally take him on Manticore, once and for all. "Not much to tell..." he began, walking back toward the kitchen and crossing to lift the coffee pot. Looking at the nearly blackened dregs left sloshing at the bottom, he put it down to root around in the cabinet and pull out his coffee canister, now with barely enough grounds inside to tell what it had once held. "Oh, hey, I guess I'm out of coffee..." he looked up at Tony, apologetically. His voice had taken on a far away, vague sound, as he looked from coffee pot to cupboard; his eyes now held the same light. "I have some errands I need to get done anyway, so if you'll let me just go to the market and get a few things, we can..."

"Logan, for God's sake!" Unable to watch his cousin unraveling any further, Tony grabbed Logan by the shoulders and turned him quickly to face him, nearly pulling Logan off his feet in the process and setting up a mechanical whirring as Logan grasped Tony's forearms for balance. Tony's eyes went wide, realizing that in his worry for his cousin, he'd forgotten that Logan shouldn't even be able to move his legs, let alone to stand or walk like this. He stood rooted, letting Logan steady himself, and watched as Logan's eyes looked into his, a new question forming there, his usual clear gaze almost as muddied as some of the drug addicts DeNozzo had busted over the years.

Suddenly, almost eerily, Logan smiled again – a terrible, demented smile this time – as he asked, "don't you want to know how I managed to be as tall as you are again?"

Tony took a deep, steadying breath and loosened his grip on Logan's shoulders, but didn't let go. "Yeah, I do..." he said softly. "But even more than that ... I want to know what the hell happened out here, Logan."

In another, sudden shift, an unearthly anguish rippled in his cousin's eyes. Tony felt him sag slightly, and he knew he was coming closer to connecting with his cousin, underneath it all, than he had since his arrival. "She died in my arms, Tony," Logan's whispered voice was nearly a plea, "but ... " he wavered, uncertain if he could trust his cousin enough to admit the rest. "Tony ... if she were really gone, I'd know it. I'd _feel_ it..." He searched Tony's face for his reaction, and seeing only a calm, listening expression there, added, "...she's not dead. She can't be, or ... she'd be gone, _here..._" He touched his chest lightly, and said, "she _was_ gone, for a little while, and I thought I'd lost her. But now..."

DiNozzo swallowed his fear for his cousin's sanity at that moment and put aside his feelings for Logan, focusing on the task ahead. "C'mon, cuz," he urged softly, gently turning him and moving with him to the living room. "We can worry about coffee later – let's sit down and have a talk..."

IV.

Six hours later, nearing midnight, local time, Tony finally stretched out his knotted muscles, straightening from his laptop from where it was perched precariously on the edge of Logan's coffee table, then leaned back, deep into the chair's contours, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. He looked over again at his cousin, stretched out on the couch now, exhaustion claiming him. His wheelchair was at his elbow, once again needed...

_An exo-skeleton? _Tony thought yet again. _I'll be damned. _It made no sense that it worked, given Logan's injury, and it must be nearly impossible to walk in the damn thing for someone who couldn't feel anything waist down, but his cousin was managing, and was back on his feet, at least part time, because of it.

But DiNozzo shook himself back to more pressing matters – his cousin's miraculous contraption could wait. It had been a long and emotional day, and Tony was fighting his own exhaustion, thanks to recent long hours with little sleep. Since he'd gotten Original Cindy's call about 24 hours before, he'd grabbed only a couple hours sleep, and those after another 24 sleepless hours on a case. He'd arrived in Seattle to find his cousin half-crazy with grief and obsessed with avenging Max's death – or her 'disappearance'...

Tony was still concerned about Logan, but was a little more hopeful about his stability as he had some time to talk with him. He was not responding in a healthy way to Max's death, true; he was obsessed and careless about his health. But what Tony – and apparently Original Cindy – had feared might be encroaching madness seemed to be just the grieving man's emotional resources dwindling with the lack of sleep and food, coupled with a helplessness to act and a growing hope that things weren't all that they seemed...

"_Just..."_ the agent repeated to himself. _Still an awful lot for anyone to endure..._

Tony watched the troubled man as he dozed, yet again vowing to get his cousin through this, to keep him safe and get him back, healthy and sane. Once Tony got him talking, Logan managed to hold back his emotions and keep himself together, but just barely; his grief was held at arm's length only by his focus on outing Manticore ... and finding Max.

Tony let himself consider Logan's belief that Max had not really died. "I held her, Tony," Logan had whispered, "she bled out, and she was gone. But then Lydecker showed up and ... and knocked me out, and the next thing I knew I woke up back in town at some free clinic ... no Lydecker, no X-5s ... no Max." It seemed impossible to think that anyone could survive such an injury, that even the best medical techniques, even if readily available, could repair such a wound. Given the circumstances and the location, outside of town, it seemed fantastical. _But then, so is just about everything that comes with building a human in a test-tube..._

Tony had worked information out of Logan gently and carefully, as he would with any fragile witness. Over the next several hours, he made them coffee from a new supply delivered by Jam Pony after a follow up call to Original Cindy, and, after shooing Logan in for a shower, managed an uninspired but hot and filling meal thrown together from his nearly-empty pantry. During that time, in between his cousin's rambling memories of the night Max died, his vague but insistent belief that she was alive somewhere, and his single-minded intent to destroy the government project that had destroyed his world, Tony managed to discover additional, necessary information from Logan about what had happened and what Logan knew of Manticore's current status. That, together with all that Tony had been able to learn this far, painted a surprisingly solid picture of the previously elusive, black project so long operating under the radar.

DiNozzo glanced back at his laptop's screen and the latest information he'd been sent by the local FBI office, heartened that he had the attention of someone here in Seattle who was apparently well aware of Manticore's presence and had been aching for an opportunity to shut them down. Just as Logan had suspected, it was likely that Lydecker was _still_ involved, and, as he'd hoped, was apparently still working against Manticore, too. Sadly, it also seemed likely to Tony, no matter Logan's certainty, that Max could not have survived. As far as anyone knew, though, her siblings were fine, but neither they nor Lydecker had contacted Logan since that night. He hadn't been able to locate any of them, and Tony's FBI source had no information for him on that front, either. And while Logan had only just figured out, earlier that same day, that the VA Hospital outside of town was likely the primary Manticore facility, Tony had it confirmed it as fact by McGee, who'd gotten the word from the Seattle FBI agent in charge, while he was still in Washington. He now had blueprints, personnel rosters and security details. _Enough to mount an assault,_ Tony imagined...

_So Logan was in the process of trying to shut them down, singlehandedly._ Tony had known that his cousin would attempt it, too, and probably die trying. Once in Seattle, finding his cousin like this had simply strengthened Tony's resolve to prevent his doing so – and he suspected that the best way was to do it first. He got up, quietly, and moved into the guest room, closing the door so Logan wouldn't hear him. Pulling out his phone, Tony hit a new speed dial entry and didn't have long to wait. "Special Agent Gitry? Yeah, this is Tony DiNozzo. I got your e-mails tonight; thanks. Are you sure you don't mind talking shop this late?" When Seattle's assistant SAC, the one with a fixation about Manticore nearly as focused as Logan's, assured him that she didn't, Tony smiled softly. "I appreciate it, Gitry – I think I have a few ideas for what we might do. Is your line secure, too?"

**To be continued.**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: See chapter 1 for story information. As always, all comments, criticisms and input appreciated. It always helps to know that there are still Dark Angel fans (especially M/L fans!) out there reading...

**Designation? What Designation?**

V.

A rarity these days, Logan awoke to find himself in his bed and the aroma of fresh coffee making its way into his senses.

_Tony..._Logan remembered._ So it wasn't just another dream, this one with his cousin appearing, out of the blue, on his doorstep?_

He glanced at his bedside clock – 10:30 – and wondered in some surprise at how dark his room was, until he noticed that his blinds had been drawn completely closed against the daylight. So his memories of Tony fussing over him last night hadn't been a dream, either...

Feeling a little more alert and rested than he had in some time, Logan sat up and blinked himself further awake before getting up and moving. It wasn't too many minutes later that he came out of his bedroom to find his cousin perched on a stool at his kitchen bench, coffee in hand, studying some information on his laptop. As Logan came in, Tony deftly closed out a program – Logan knew the signs well – and smiled at him.

"Hey, cuz," DiNozzo offered. "You're looking a bit better rested than last night."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, ruefully, "I guess I haven't been sleeping too much lately. It's just that the longer I wait, the more likely it will be that they could shut down the facility here and take off to establish their base somewhere else..."

Tony tried to hide his concern that, even barely awake yet, Logan was already fidgeting about getting back to his search for Manticore. "You know, I was thinking about that..." Tony began smoothly, getting up to find Logan a cup and pour him some coffee. "Look, let's go in there," he nodded toward Logan's dining room "and I had some toast already; want some?"

"No, I..." Logan's words died as Tony ignored him, putting two slices in the toaster and snapping them down. "...yeah, sure," he acquiesced. He watched Tony grab his own mug, fill it too, and cross over to the dining room with both. Logan dutifully followed, pulling up to the table and snapping on his brakes. "Thanks," he said quietly as he took the proffered coffee. "And ... thanks for coming, Tony," he looked up at his cousin, still standing by the table. "I'm afraid I haven't been much of a host..."

Tony dismissed his apology quickly. "We're family. It's not a 'host' thing..." After a long draw on his own coffee, he put it down on the table and went back into the kitchen, still within easy view of his cousin, and asked, casually, as he pulled some butter and jam out of the refrigerator, "so where's Bling? Isn't he coming over as often as he used to?" Tony was certain that he wasn't; no way would the dedicated, cautious trainer have let Logan get even close to the state in which DiNozzo had seen him the previous night. He just wanted to know _why_ he wasn't...

"Oh ... he's been gone a couple months..." Logan began, his voice taking on a distant sound again – mind probably elsewhere already, Tony frowned to himself, "his father's a heart patient and hasn't been doing too well. He went back to be with him for a while, see what he could do to help."

"Sorry to hear that," Tony came back to the table and placed the butter and jam with a knife in front of Logan. "Did he plan to stay there permanently?"

Logan shrugged, eyes far away and his voice noncommital. "Oh – no, he said he'd be back ... but, you know..."

Tony took in the listless voice and slightly withdrawn, protective expression he saw as Logan concentrated on his coffee. _Bling's gone, Max killed in his arms ... and Logan is doing all he can not to feel like that abandoned kid he was twenty years ago... _

"You know, cuz ..." Tony began, slowly, "it would be great to have you come back with me to Washington. You know... get away from Seattle for a while. You probably have a lot of memories here, and maybe a change of scenery..."

"I can't leave," Logan shook his head immediately, coming back to the present, his voice quiet but resolute. "Not until Manticore is gone."

"Logan ... look," Tony began. "You know that Manticore is a serious, well funded, well-outfitted military project. Your ... network of friends here is impressive; I've seen you in action and I have all respect for what you can do. But it doesn't change the fact that this is a David and Goliath scenario you're talking about –" The toast popped up suddenly and Tony moved back to the kitchen to get it, again within line of sight of his cousin. "You and whomever you can pull together against the federal government's blackest and most elite special ops guys?" he continued as he quickly grabbed a plate and dropped the toast on it. He came back to place it in front of Logan, making his point as he did, sitting across from his cousin. "Logan – no one is _that_ good..."

But Logan was shaking his head, stubbornly. "I have to do this, Tony. You won't talk me out of it..."

"I know," Tony said quietly.

Logan looked surprised. "But ... you just said..."

"I want to help, Logan. I told you my about my own run-in with Manticore. I should have made more noise about them years ago." He paused, then went on, watching Logan carefully as he said, "I saw the hack –" As Logan's eyes suddenly snapped up to his, looking at his cousin in apprehension, Tony went on smoothly, "_Eyes Only's_ hack – and whether or not I'd have agreed at the time that it was a good idea, the word is out now." He saw that his cousin now wondered if he might have a clue who Eyes Only really was. "It's time to take them down." He saw Logan react to that, and went on, "I want to help – and I have some ideas." Tony drew a breath, and with a small smirk, pushed the plate of toast a little closer to his cousin, raising his eyebrows in a silent suggestion that he eat. With a smile at Logan's small snort in response, DiNozzo started to speak again as Logan reached for the jam and spread it on the cooling toast. He would still offer the truth, but would use it in a way that he hoped would keep his cousin safe. "When I heard from Original Cindy I started pulling some information about Manticore together, as best I could. I've also called a friend in the FBI. He's getting me in contact with their local office."

Logan looked surprised first, then wary. "To do what?"

"Take them out," Tony answered readily.

"What, one government agency against another? I don't believe they'd go for that," Logan argued, "and even if you wanted to help, Tony, no way would the FBI, or even NCIS, stand by and let you..."

"I think that Manticore's gone rogue, after all this time off the books, and they think they're untouchable by the oversight committee, or anyone else, for that matter. Now that they've become involved in murder – at least in the murders of Max and her sister, most recently – whatever protection they may have had will be gone. Logan, I know you're in a hurry to get rid of them, but if you'll give me a little time, I might be able to get the FBI and other assets involved in shutting them down for good."

"How much time?" Logan asked, immediately resisting the delay. He had managed to finish the first piece of toast, and Tony nodded down toward the second one before he spoke again.

"Just a couple days, three or four at the most." Tony promised smoothly, and leaned forward, eyes locking onto Logan's, urging his agreement. "Let me help you, cuz. You've got to admit that if I can manage to get the larger agencies involved, we might have a chance at shutting them down, and it will be safer for everyone involved – for you, for any of Max's siblings still out there..."

"For Max, too ... if you're successful."

Tony swallowed the emotion he felt rise at seeing his cousin clinging onto such a thin hope, but decided to use even that in order to keep Logan safe. "For Max, too," he agreed.

"Okay..." Logan nodded, slowly. "But will you let me help?"

"Look, cuz, the players in this might have a problem with a civilian involved. I'll have FBI involved at the very least; Manticore is likely to reach to the Army and possibly other services..."

"Tony, I have a lot of local research I've done..." Logan offered intently, his desire to be of help palpable. "Maybe some things they won't find so quickly, or have time to develop before it's too late..."

"Yeah, sure; okay," Tony murmured soothlingly, knowing that Logan's information would likely be of some help, and hoping that this much participation would let Logan would stand back for a few days, giving him some time to act before his cousin insisted on getting back in to the line of fire. "But I want you sticking around here, just laying low until we get up to speed, alright? I know you'd never mean to set things back, but when you have the feds involved, who knows what will get their nose out of joint..."

"Yeah," Logan nodded, again vaguely, but then looked up to his cousin with a look Tony remembered from when his cousin was quite young. "Tony, I'm glad you're here ... and that you want them gone, too." Logan's shoulders slumped and he suddenly, again, looked so very tired. "Honestly," he admitted, in a low, broken voice, "I was starting to think it was hopeless, to try to defeat them."

"No doubt," Tony urged softly. "They're a pretty big organization, cuz, with lots of powerful backers."

_Wouldn't be the first time,_ Logan thought to himself numbly. _Why should this time be so much harder? _He drew a steadying breath, "I'm glad you want to help," he repeated, "because ... this time, I could use a hand."

DiNozzo looked at his cousin, broken and hurting. "Hey," he bumped Logan's hand with his to make his point. "We'll get them, Logan."

"I think you will," Logan smiled faintly, feeling an exhausted relief that his big cousin had appeared to save the day. _And if ever I was right about Max, let it be before Tony's efforts aren't too late for her, too..._

VI.

Sometimes, Max would tell herself it was like she'd never left Manticore. The drills, the barked orders, the regimented schedule... sparring partners who could match her, even best her, in speed and strength and hand to hand combat; others who could keep up with her in stamina and agility and tactics. But she knew she was merely sounding out the thought, knowing how untrue it really was. During the daytime she was always on guard, knowing that at some moment in the middle of training or testing, she'd be called in yet again to see the Director, and the bitch would try once again to break her, to get a reaction from her. She was always aware that she was surrounded by the Enemy, whether across the mat in hand-to-hand drill, or across the table in the mess hall, or in the Director's office as another tactic was tried to break her back to being merely 452. Renfro was bad enough, but it sickened her to think that these others in training with her, those who should rightfully be her siblings, too, would be so ready to turn her in, to _kill_ her, at the slightest word from their commanders. They considered 452 to be a traitor, corrupted and corrupt, a carrier of both germs and dangerous, perverted ideas.

So she watched, and never, ever let any of them catch her with her guard down.

But at night ... at night, alone, in the dark, locked in her cell, even with the constant electronic surveillance in Manticore's stronghold, she began to sense an odd level of freedom because as she was locked in, so were the others. As best she could tell, the non-engineered, military jailers – "ordinaries," she'd heard the other X5s call them, once, behind their backs – didn't feel safe on the sparser, night detail unless every last one of the X-series creations under their command was locked up tight. And even the Director had to get her beauty sleep. So as Max was locked in, the others were locked out, and she was allowed to dream ... to weep, privately... to remember...

When she let her thoughts wander as she did now she remembered the best of times in that strange little life that she had almost started taking for granted. Maybe a hard life, at times, but free, and peopled with those she loved and who loved her, no matter who she was. Original Cindy... everyone at Jam Pony, even Normal... she smiled a little to herself...

... Bling...

She gulped a little, then acknowledged,

_Logan._

Her eyes moistened again at the thought of him, missing him enough to make it a physical ache. _Where was he now? Safe? Home and alive and well? _Her last memories of Logan were muddled and sharp, painful and numb, all at once. She had taken a blast from a modified assault weapon, full in the chest; searing pain had shifted too quickly to cold numbness and she fell, aware but unaware, until suddenly Logan had her in his arms, willing her to waken, willing her to live...

_Until the blackness swallowed her, whole..._

She'd had no word of him for those first weeks as she recovered in Manticore's prison, no idea if he'd made it back alive, no clue at all where he was and if he was alright ... if he knew that _she_ was alright...

She only learned for sure just thirteen hours earlier, when the Director had let it slip and, unwittingly, had given her such hope... "_He thinks you're dead, which is why he's causing so much trouble for us," _she'd said...

"_... he's causing so much trouble for us._.." she let the thought play over and over in her mind.

An Eyes Only broadcast, then? It made sense now why some of the guards seemed distracted and nervous, and it was confirmed when she overheard a pair of them talking near the mess hall: "Eyes Only says he has the location and is going to broadcast it..."

"He's bluffing. If he knew it he'd say..."

"It's just a matter of time. We're only an hour from Seattle; how hard will it be for him to find us? This is _Eyes Only_; you know what he can do..."

Max's tears spilled over again in the dark, remembering, but now they were tears of relief and joy and a new found will to survive ... and an even greater determination to escape again. Logan was still at it. He might think she was dead but he hadn't given up the fight -- in fact, was calling them out. She'd be out of there, soon, she vowed.

So that night, she doubled her slow, methodical efforts to dig her way out of her cell, and managed to pull out the first cement block keeping her prisoner. Another night's work and she just might have a hole big enough to slip though, with luck letting her make it to the winding corridors she'd heard below. She'd been working at it for a while, but the certainty that Logan was there, 'still rocking the boat,' gave her a whole new reason to beat her captors once again. _Wait for me, Logan,_ she closed her eyes tightly, imagining the green eyes and artistic hands, his fierce principles and his gentle words for her. _You're not going to take this bitch down without me there to help..._

**To be continued.**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: See chapter 1 for story information. Once again, many thanks to **Mari83** for reading ahead and letting me know where the holes are in the story! As always, you rock!

**Designation? What Designation?**

VI.

As he stood on the street outside his cousin's building, Tony realized that it felt like far longer than two days since he'd arrived in Seattle. Logan wasn't doing all that much better but he seemed a little less manic, now willing to let his older cousin have some time to "find" Manticore before he threw himself full force back into his plans. He did look more beaten, though, and had even allowed himself to give in a little more to the idea that Max might truly be gone. He was listless and ate little, but seemed to be at least sleeping more than he had been.

_Sleeping **too** much_, Tony acknowledged guiltily, _but for now, that's better. He can use the sleep – and it makes it a little easier to take care of things without him getting into all this, too. _Tony again felt a chill of relief to think how close a call this might have been. If Original Cindy hadn't called when she had, his cousin might have tried taking on Manticore on his own – or have simply succumbed to his increasing obsession, even delusions.

_Were _they delusions?_ How can he be so sure that Max is alive?_ DiNozzo wondered again, then again shook off the hope he'd almost begun sharing with his cousin. _Because he __**wants**__ it to be true... because he's not completely rational right now. It wouldn't be the first time you've seen madmen firm in the strength of their convictions..._

Tony sighed, frowning, watching the traffic distractedly as he stewed about his cousin. _With luck, this will all be done in the next forty eight hours,_ he reasoned. _And so far, Logan isn't any the wiser. Maybe we can wrap it all up and, if need be, show him concrete proof, one way or the other, about Max. _Not a scenario he liked, dragging his cousin out to some godforsaken place to prove to him once and for all that his beloved Max was really gone forever. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but if it had to be done, he'd be there for Logan, whatever it took...

At least he'd managed to keep up the charade, and Logan thought Tony was about two days behind in the intel he actually had. So Logan was now upstairs, still asleep, and still thinking his cousin was off to the local FBI office that morning to look at their files on Manticore and their surveillance films of two or three local spots Logan thought might be possibilities, when in fact he and the SAC were on their way to ferret out Lydecker and, he hoped, actually confront the Colonel at the place Tony believed he was planning his next move.

Tony tried to forget about his concerns for Logan for the present, and to focus on Lydecker and Manticore. The driven, obsessed Logan he'd seen on arrival seemed to disappear once he'd promised to give Tony his couple days to investigate; he was quiet and withdrawn. Neither extreme was normal for his bright, talented cousin...

DiNozzo shook himself back on task. Logan had told him he'd been trying Lydecker's cell phone over the past weeks since they'd attempted taking down Manticore, but there had been no answer and no message service on the line. But the number still seemed active, so Logan continued to faithfully try the number several times each day.

...as did Tony's team, once he got the number from Logan. And to DiNozzo's surprise, it was indeed active, used with enough frequency that they were able to develop a pattern of locations from which the cell was begin used. _Lydecker would know better than to use a phone with a GPS chip, wouldn't he?_ Tony wondered again, trying to plan for all eventualities – including the possibility that Logan had an outdated, and reassigned, number for him. _Of course, if Lydecker's really on the outside now, he doesn't have access to all the toys Manticore might have had available, and if he needed a phone out past the city limits, when even the city had fewer and fewer working pay phones on the street..._

So maybe not Lydecker's latest base of operations, after all, but certainly locations where he or someone with his phone had been these days. The SAC said that the locations traced were in a cluster of abandoned warehouses in an outlying, rarely used industrial park ... and, feeding Tony's growing optimism, not far from the area described by Logan as their rallying point for their last attack on Manticore...

A nondescript black sedan pulled out of traffic toward the curb, and Tony smirked a bit to himself. _Government issue_, he noted, and as expected, it stopped in front of him. The window rolled down and the driver leaned over a little, peering up at him with a quizzical smile. "DiNozzo?"

"Gitry," he returned the greeting, and pulled open the door to drop into the passenger seat. Seattle's SAC had provided intel, resources – and now one of its senior agents to second him and even to ferry him out on hunt for Manticore. He grabbed for the seatbelt and as the car moved smoothly back into traffic, DiNozzo looked over to assess the senior agent he'd gotten to know on the phone over the past few days: not all that much younger than he was, fit and trim with a no-nonsense attitude, crisp blue eyes, pale reddish hair, and a puckish, pert nose that probably made her crazy, since it made her look more like a high school cheerleader than a serious, senior FBI agent. "I appreciate your coming along for this," he offered.

"I've _told_ you I've been dying to get a chance to close these bastards down," the woman's voice carried her readiness to take on Manticore, her determination just as strong as when they'd spoken on the phone. "It's made me crazy that the Bureau has known about them for so long, even knew what they were up to, and yet our hands were tied. I'm sorry your cousin had to lose his friend before we got the green light to do anything about them."

"Well, your help has been appreciated, especially since this isn't exactly an NCIS case." Tony watched Gitry maneuver through city traffic easily toward the interstate. "And I appreciate how much you've let me in." He really had to hand it to McGee, getting him so deep inside on this one. When he called McGee in the hope that the former probie-turned-FBI/SAC could get him some local back-up for what really was nothing more than a personal mission, it turned out that Seattle's FBI office had been actively building a case against Manticore, and were fully aware of its presence in the area.

Since the Seattle office had reopened, several years after the Pulse, it had been quietly investigating a variety of allegations from locations across the Pacific Northwest which would have seemed lunatic, even X-Files material, if isolated. But the number and similarity of reports had caught the Bureau's attention. Slowly putting together otherwise random reports about crimes committed by super-human perpetrators, many of them mere children, or strange sightings of man-animals in the area, and cross-referencing them with the handful of repeated, insistent reports they received of a secret government agency experimenting on children and young adults, the FBI had begun to build its files about Project Manticore and exactly what the black op had done, over the years. Reports ranged from squads of child combatants seen drilling in the area, to medical and psychological experiments, even to quasi-human creatures locked away in its cellars. The early discrediting of these reports as urban myths or conspiracy theory fantasies faded as the stories, one after the other, raised too many similarities, too many common names or terms or locations which the FBI finally could not ignore. They'd been warned off and shut down on several occasions by a previous administration, but now, finally, had permission to investigate. Over the past several months they'd had the go-ahead for a full inquiry but had even still been reminded that Manticore, too, was a government agency, and were warned about leveling charges when they had no hard evidence of any wrongful conduct occurring in their facilities.

It appeared that Tony's call to McGee, McGee's call to the Seattle FBI, and the information Tony was able to provide them, had been just what they needed.

"So what's your plan?" Gitry asked.

Tony shrugged, still surprised that he was being given so much deference in this. _Maybe the excuse the FBI needs if things don't pan out?_ "Play it by ear. Mainly, I wanted to see if my cousin was right, that Lydecker has flipped on them and is willing to help us shut them down. He knows the facility and who might be inside. If he cooperates, we have a better chance of getting in and shutting them down without a lot of resistance. And ... selfishly..." Tony added, "I want to know if he can tell me for certain what happened to Max. It sounds as if he was there when she died, too."

Gitry glanced over at DiNozzo, and looked sympathetic. "Your cousin's still taking it pretty hard?"

"Yeah." Tony glanced away, his response brief.

With another glance at DiNozzo, seeing that the topic was closed, Gitry tried, "you think you can trust Lydecker?"

Tony shook his head, "probably not. But he had a lot invested in the kids he trained, and no matter if he saw them as science experiments or personal achievements or surrogate children, he pretty well lost it when he saw that Manticore had killed one of them for whatever new experiment they had in mind. If he's been hung out to dry by Manticore but is still hanging around, I have to think he may be planning his own attack."

"Hmm." Gitry considered it. "What's he know that makes him think he can do it singlehandedly?"

"We don't know that's he's alone," Tony reminded her, "but the others with him at their last attempt to get inside were four of the Manticore-trained kids who escaped in 2009."

"X-5s," she offered, glancing over at him.

Tony looked at her, assessing, then nodded. "Yeah. And we know that he's at least down to three."

"You think the others stayed with him?"

"No way to know – if they stayed, or if they were captured too..." DiNozzo speculated, "you've got to wonder what he has in mind – rescue? Or retaliation?" Tony broke his musing for the moment to add, "which is why I'm glad you're along. My gut may tell me one thing, but your training as a profiler is probably more reliable..."

"Lydecker's a sociopath." Gutry offered flatly.

"Even more reason to have you along, to check him out." Tony looked back at the traffic, unseeing, mind racing ahead to how he would take on Lydecker, once he was found.

She looked over to Tony, then raised an eyebrow. "So... no plan, other than to see what's going on with him and if you can recruit him to help in our take-down?"

DiNozzo stared ahead for another moment or two then looked over to Gitry and grinned. "See? I need your BS detector – you got me figured out." He leaned back and again watched the traffic ahead. "Either way, we go in and do what we can to shut the project down. With our little visit today, maybe we get a bit of inside information."

VII.

But Gitry hadn't figured out DiNozzo enough to predict what he did on arrival in the area where Lydecker's cell was most often tracked. She had barely stopped the car when he jumped out and started walking out in plan sight, openly, even calling out loud once in a while. "Anyone here? Colonel?" He opened unlocked doors and peered into windows adjoining locked ones. As he wandered from building to building, Gitry let the sedan roll along behind him, not quite sure what he wanted her to do.

She considered the agent, wondering again at the look of him, as he wandered. He had changed the way he looked from his file photo, and Gitry began to suspect it had to do with this meet. He hadn't shaved, and his hair was gelled into spiky haphazardness, usually affected by men younger than he, and certainly not by too many government agents – unless undercover. He hadn't worn glasses on the ride over but pulled on a pair before he got out...

_Are all NCIS agents such eccentrics, or just this guy? _she had only begun to wonder, when a figure rounded the next building, flanked by two others.

_Lydecker_, she recognized.

_...and are all NCIS agents this effective?_ she added to herself as she slammed the car into park and got out to follow.

VIII.

Max lay on her cot in the dark, sorting through the information she had actively been gathering since Renfro woke her up to the need to get out of there, to warn Logan. One last time, she berated herself at her weakness. She'd let her injury and the needed recovery time, the torture and manipulation that she'd been put through since her return, and the trauma of having her worst nightmare realized, being recaptured, all work to soften her resolve, to dull her focus. _If I'd really been trying to escape I'd be gone by now_, she fumed.

_Well, not any more, _she vowed, moving on from the past and her failure to act sooner. She actually had Renfro to thank for getting her head back on straight and giving her yet another reason to escape. The day Renfro let it be known that Eyes Only was pursuing Manticore, Max had managed to pull out the first brick in her cell wall. She might have gotten even further had she not had another surprising interruption...

A "breeding partner."

Her stomach clutched as she thought again of the cocky X5-494, an aberrational clone of her own troubled brother, Ben. The man was quick to imply that _he_ wasn't like Ben, that he'd emerged from "six months in psy-ops" to return to the program which trained him as an assassin. He even showed off his slang for her, thinking he could pass as any other guy in Seattle with "Common Verbal Usage" in his bag of tricks. What a jerk. And to think she was supposed to just roll over and let him screw her?

'_Breeding partner,'_ she thought again, angrily. _What's worse? That they make these kids hop through into bed for 'breeding,' like pedigreed dogs, just part of the job – or that someone like 494 has been allowed to grow up in an environment where he just doesn't see how twisted and whack that really is?_

She forced her mind away from the obscenities of the place and ran through her mental list of all she had learned from eavesdropping on the guards, the lab techs and others who came and went here as employees, refusing to wonder at the callousness of these civilians who must see what was going on yet apparently reported nothing...

She knew that they were about an hour out from the city limits, from overheard conversations about travel time, the gas used, shared rides ... from that, and what she'd seen of the area outside the perimeter fence, she inferred that they must be in the old VA Hospital that had been in operation for decades, even right though and after the Pulse. _Good choice, _Max conceded,_ something that's been here forever and ignored by everyone in town ... something on the government's books that might be scavenged for Manticore's use..._

She'd seen enough of the surrounding area when drilling outside that she was confident she knew what she faced; she was thankful for the tree cover nearby and knew exactly how she would head back to town, circling and doubling back to take a longer but less expected approach to her goal. _Gotta give props to the morons letting me drill with the X-5s they still have here_, she smirked. _Maybe I'm supposed to be impressed with those we left behind _– and yeah, it might be a bit trickier to outrun other X5s as fast and strong as she – but ten years on the streets had given her strengths and smarts they could never hope to match. _These kids are all about efficiency, about power and bullying their way from point A to point B. They've been too dependent on being good little soldiers to have a lot of experience living on their feet, being the hunted instead of the hunter. It won't occur to them to go the long way around, or to double back and hide, let them get in front of the target and peel off behind... _Zack had remembered that she was good at escape and evade, but what they taught in Manticore had nothing on what she had to learn on her own, running from social services and truant officers and cops of every stripe, even from Lydecker...

She was confident that once she was past the perimeter she was practically home free. It was just the dash from Joshua's window to the woods surrounding them that seemed the most risky...

_Joshua._ A new brother she hadn't expected. On the night they'd met, he confirmed for her that all the stories she'd heard as a child were true, that there were, after all, "'nomlies" in the cells below them, most likely the early experiments, like Joshua, which led to her X-5 siblings and herself...

_All like Joshua?_ she wondered. _Mixed DNA make-up so clear to see? Joshua was a complex mix of sheltered innocence and fierce genetic potential, but he seemed at core to be good and kind. What about the other stories of the 'nomlies not so good – or not so sane? What all did they have locked up in the cells – __**who**__ all? And what can I do to get them out of Manticore's clutches?_

Max had thought about this repeatedly, ever since meeting the tall, shaggy Joshua, too canine in appearance to walk the streets safely, too gentle and sweet in disposition to be kept a prisoner. _Even the kids who look like everyone on the outside are as messed up as the 'nomlies,_ Max had discovered – the more they looked human, the more indoctrination and drilling had been used to keep them content and happy in the Project Manticore prison. _They think the outside world is dangerous and dirty, and that they have a good thing going here, hidden away in this place_, she had learned from their taunts and insults. _Any chance a simple taste of freedom could touch twenty years of psy-ops and propaganda?_

At least Joshua wanted out. He wanted to escape with her, so maybe there was hope that the others would too. _None of them should be kept as slaves for Manticore, no matter what purpose they might serve_, Max thought, _not even a jerk like 494. But he's been out there and has come back, willingly. _Just by his being here it was a willing return; a guy like that could easily just fail to return after a assignment. So it was 'willing.'

_A simple taste of freedom, _she repeated to herself. What could she show these siblings of hers, the whole lot of Manticore products in the place, in every size, shape and mental status imaginable, that would help them understand how much better it was to be their own masters?

_Gotta be something,_ she told herself as she quietly rolled out of her bunk to silently remove the bricks from the wall and squeeze out of her cell, ready to start on the bars in the window that remained between her and freedom. _And once I'm out of here and back in Seattle... I'm gonna have to do something about it..._

**To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: Please see chapter 1 for story and character information. Thanks to those still reading; any comments, reviews or thoughts appreciated.

**Designation? What Designation?**

IX.

Laura Gitry hurried to catch up to the NCIS Special Agent, who was moving purposefully toward the trio ahead. _Lydecker, no question_, she thought to herself, looking at the older man between the other two. _But the others? More of the ones who escaped back in '09?_

DiNozzo had reached the trio and had stopped, nearly nose to nose, with the Colonel, as Gitry came close enough to watch and hear but off to the side a bit, better to observe – and to get DiNozzo's back, if needed. She let her right hand drop, casually, along her side, in readiness to draw her service weapon. Somehow, though she had a feeling that it would be too little, too late, with this bunch...

But she watched, closely and carefully, as DiNozzo stood silent and motionless and, by God, even smiling a small, knowing smirk, face to face with the Colonel. He was watching Lydecker assess him, and clearly expected some sort of reaction...

He wasn't disappointed.

Tony had seen the wheels start turning as soon as Lydecker took one look at him. Was it his resemblance to his cousin, or was there any chance that the man remembered their own meeting, more than a decade before? The Colonel's eyes narrowed in brief assessment, followed by a wary question, as if he was slowly catching onto some joke DiNozzo was playing. He completely ignored Gitry, apparently unimpressed with the"FBI" emblazoned across her jacket, clearly there as back-up to the man before him, dressed in civilian clothing.

Gitry watched as DiNozzo merely waited, his own smile challenging now, and Lydecker actually blinked first. Nodding, he conceded, "Well, it's not Halloween ... but the costume is effective, I have to give you that. So I know _who_ you're supposed to be. Care to tell me _why_ you're dressed up as Logan Cale? Or how you manage to look so much like him?"

The male standing with Lydecker chimed in before Tony could speak, apparently caught off-guard by his appearance. "You're his brother?"

"His cousin." Tony shifted his gaze to the younger man. "And you must be _Max's_ brother."

The man's eyes rounded slightly, as if even more surprised that the Cale-clone before him not only knew Max, but guessed his connection to her – and knew that they thought of each other as siblings. The woman on the other side of Lydecker reacted too, and spoke before the male X-5 could. "He is ... and I'm her sister. You knew Max, then, too?"

"_Knew" Max?_ Tony wondered. _So she really __**is**__ gone?_ He managed to reply, evenly, "I'd just gotten to know her, a few months ago."

"So now we all know who you are, but not why you're here," the Colonel interrupted.

As Lydecker had begun to speak again, attempting to gain control of the situation, Tony shifted his hand slowly into his pocket, his expression still easy and light, his movement making his gun hand even less ready for action -- but allowing his NCIS shield, in place in its leather holster in his belt, to peek out from his jacket and glint up at the trio. "You wouldn't return Logan's calls, so I thought I'd come see you myself."

Once again, a change came over the Colonel's face that Gitry would never have imagined she'd see from him. At the sight of the badge, Lydecter's eyes nearly gave him away: though at all times muted, they showed first recognition and surprise ... then a hesitancy, a look of sudden, deep understanding ... and finally a grudging, cynical admiration. "Here, all this time I was right – or nearly right." Lydecker said finally, an expression almost like a rueful smile taking shape. "I always thought I'd seen Cale somewhere before Seattle, but I could never place him." He drew a long, slow breath, and cocked his head slightly toward DiNozzo as he spoke to the pair at his side. "you both probably have him to thank for your last ten years on the run. If this man had followed orders, we might have gotten at least some of you back to Manticore before you had a chance to get out of the area."

Tony smiled widely, his face not showing the edge of biting, bitter irony carried in his voice. "Well, Colonel, I'm touched that you remembered."

"Some adolescence you gave my kids, DiNozzo. If they'd come back to me they could have been great..."

_So whatever this was, it was enough that the man remembered the agent by name? Why didn't he tell me he'd met Lydecker before?_ Gitry wondered, suddenly suspicious that DiNozzo was leaving NCIS out of the loop for more reasons than merely lack of jurisdiction over non-Navy or Marine matters. _Has he been playing me on this?_ The pair with Lydecker, whom she would later learn were "Syl" and "Krit," were still silent, curious but hesitant, clearly struck by the comment.

But Tony's smile had faded and his eyes hardened. "We can discuss that all you like, Colonel, but now isn't a good time. We need to talk. Can we go inside?"

"Not until I know what this is about."

"Look, take my weapon; we both know it won't be of any use with them here anyway. Take hers if she agrees or leave her outside if she doesn't," he nodded toward Gitry, the first evidence she'd seen that DiNozzo even noticed she'd joined him, "but I have some things to discuss with you that none of us want aired out here."

"Gotta do better," Lydecker stood firm, looking relaxed now that he knew he had something DiNozzo wanted.

"Manticore," Tony said simply. "Is that enough?"

X.

Logan had been awake for at least thirty minutes, lying in bed and listening to the quiet sounds of his penthouse, now empty but for him, but immobilized by the heavy, smothering realization he now faced every morning, as he just started waking from his ever-fitful sleep...

_...she's gone..._

In the near silence, he was aware of the vague electronic humming reaching him from his computer array, his refrigerator, and the building's environmental systems. He'd heard the sounds of his cousin moving through the penthouse earlier, quietly, in the shower and in the kitchen, sounds ebbing and flowing and finally, so still that Logan knew Tony must have gone.

He still hadn't opened his eyes.

He thought distractedly of a couple projects he ought to open, some new intel along the info net which, if he could map it into the information he'd already obtained, might turn into a package or two he could give to Matt. _Better to let the police handle things_, he told himself, _rather than try closing up black marketeers with volunteers on the 'Net. Maybe the bad guys are as willing to shoot at cops as they are civilians, but at least the cops are more likely to have protection, back-up, and guns just as deadly..._

It occurred to him just how much guns had taken over Seattle ... over his life. Over _Max's_. The hurt of her loss washed over him again, and he drew a deep breath against the pain. Unbidden, he remembered the time he had offered Max a gun, for her protection.

"_Not to sound ungrateful, but I don't do guns," she'd said._

_His response had probably sounded flip when he immediately responded, "that would make you the only person walking around this city not packing." Even worse was his then-repeated reminder to her about who and what she was, as he smirked, "a genetically-engineered killing machine ... squeamish about guns._"

_But she had quietly shrugged it off, not reacting to his labeling her a killer, not offering whatever reason lay behind the softened expression. "Just a rule," she'd said, avoiding discussion._

The hollow feeling he'd had inside, since he'd found her, downed and bleeding, since she lay lifeless in his arms, threatened again to overwhelm him. _Did you know, Max?_ he wondered again. _Could you have known that with everything you could do, a gun would be the end of you? Did you wonder how I could so easily use them, offer them, when they took half my life ... and would take all of yours?_

He heard a soft thrum from his clock and, recognizing the sound as its change to a new hour, turned his head slowly to look at it, no idea what time it was...

_10:00..._

He rolled his head back, faintly surprised, from afar, that it was that late, thinking how rare it was that he slept as long as he had, that morning ...

...or as much as he had in the last couple days...

He screwed his eyes shut tightly, angrily; he wanted to turn his thoughts back to Max, wanted to lay there in his bed and think only of what he'd lost in losing Max, but as he did, he could imagine her reaction to his lethargy and grief. _She wouldn't lose herself like this_, he was sure. _With all she'd lost in her life, all that had been taken or withheld from her ... she was the ultimate survivor. _

_...so how unfair is it that __**I'm**__ the one who survived?_

With that, a new thought crept in. _Unfair ... but you __**did**__. And you have work to do, for Max. For the siblings she loved, for the city she adopted as home._ Opening his eyes finally, and grimacing against the thought of moving through another day, silent of Max, Logan sat unmoving for the moment, before shifting his legs over the side of the bed and pausing, thoughts finally starting to stir again after being numb and grief stricken for what seemed now like decades.

_And Tony?_ he wondered at himself, _he's been here two days and you've barely noticed ... or have barely spoken to him. _

_You owe him a lot better than that_, he chided himself.

A final sigh, deep and painful, broke the silence as Logan reached for his chair and felt his heart breaking all over again, knowing, finally, that he would have to let Max go, and knowing how much it would hurt, how much _he_ would hurt, to do so.

_Make her proud, Cale, _he told himself._ You still have some fight left in you. You can still expose them and make them pay for what they did to all those innocent kids. _

_Don't let her down... don't let any of them down..._

XI.

Tony followed the Colonel inside one of the abandoned warehouses not far from where they'd met him, followed by Gitry and the pair of X-5s. Maybe just to make their point, but most likely at no risk to them, they declined Tony's offer to take his or Gitry's weapon. _They really are that good, _he mused, following Lydecker to a small office at the end of the empty loading dock. _They know where our guns are and could disarm us both before either one of us could raise the gun barrel to shooting height. Lydecker probably figures it's a helpful reminder to us not to try to pull anything over on them. _

They all went into the windowless office. Remaining on his feet and making no suggestion the others sit, Lydecker began, "Cale started calling two days after we were inside. You're here in his place?"

"Not exactly." DiNozzo appraised the man and said, cooly, "look, Colonel, from what I've learned you're not exactly on Manticore's employee of the month list right now – if you were, you wouldn't be out here skulking around with these two, but inside, throwing your weight around. And given how they have dealt with other employees whom they decided they don't like anymore, you should be miles away from here by now – unless you have something more in mind. It occurs to me that we might combine our efforts. You tried once to destroy Manticore, but you went small... just the lab. What's your plan now?" Tony stared the man down, knowing what his previous failure would do to a man like Lydecker, even if he'd never show it.

To his credit, Lydecker's expression remained cooly skeptical, but from his reaction it was clear to Tony that he'd managed to pretty well nail the Colonel's game plan. Lydecker didn't give it up, though, and challenged, "what do _you_ have in mind – you think you can take them down?"

"That's the idea." Tony said smoothly.

Lydecker looked skeptical. "It's been tried before."

"Actually, it hasn't." Gitry finally spoke up, steady despite Lydecker's sudden scrutiny. "If you're talking about those attempts in '11 and '17 – they were trumped up by the Committee. They were afraid that as you were building back up from the '09 escape and getting confident again, that you and a few of the others on the ground – including the X-5s and X-6s – were getting _too_ confident in what even just a couple of your X-series soldiers could do to a whole platoon of regular troopers. So they invented a couple 'serious' threats to Manticore – one a threatened closure by the Committee, I believe, and one an imminent take-over by a never-identified faction of governments...?" Laura saw that Lydecker remembered precisely what she was talking about – and wasn't at all pleased to have been so soundly duped by his employers. "They banked on the idea that a threat to the program would make you keep your profile low."

"Not that any of this makes Manticore an easy kill," DiNozzo resumed, seeing the man's eyes glitter dangerously with the information, "but technically ... we may be the first to really try it. Or, the second, if we count your attack on the lab." He saw Lydecker's jaw work silently, apparently trying to keep his temper in the face of the news about ancient charades so hard on the heels of the appearance of two too-knowledgeable government agents.

To his credit, though, Lydecker processed it all quickly. "They'll have brought back more of the X-5s," he offered, "and by now they'll have a better prepared security detail..."

"Actually, they seem to have taken another route on that." DiNozzo could almost enjoy this, knowing how this next information was likely to both anger the Colonel and please him with the improved chances of success. "Your old boss has gotten nervous with the idea that her brood of super-soldiers might actually try overthrowing the place, now that they've seen how much fun the Class of '09 has had out in the real world – you know, that eternal fear the keepers have that the inmates will take over the asylum. And, your little raid may have actually worked to our advantage – seems than not only the lab went up, but they had a little attitude problem with some of the X-7s..."

"Some? They're a hive mind; how could they..."

Tony was shrugging, "apparently the Director had the same concern, and it's bothered her enough to start worrying about developing problems with _all_ the transgenics there. It also works to our benefit that she has that institutional bias some of those Manticore employees have, that the transgenics aren't quite human – sorry," he glanced his quick apology to Krit and Syl, but continued, "so she's ordered that _all_ of them are included in the nightly lock-down now. Our intel reports put the entire transgenic population in lock-down, even the X-5s, from shift change at 1200 hours to 0600. Even when they're out of their cells on site during the day, they're under increased guard presence and surveillance, and are back in their cells if not on specific assignment in the facility."

Lydecker's eye's glittered at the implication. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"What I said, as far as we can tell – she has this 'science project' mentality for them, and somehow thinks when she's in a corner, it's better to have safe, reliable human protection, " DiNozzo said cynically. "The Director has gotten nervous with the thought that the rogue X-5s are outside the walls, either looking to get even – or looking to recruit more to escape. No doubt she's been made even more nervous with the thought that you may still be helping them."

"Bitch was always clueless about strategic planning," Lydecker muttered, finally nodding, "and more than a little 'trans-phobic.'"

Tony glanced up quickly to see if he'd heard right and saw that the Colonel wasn't thinking about his newly coined word. "I'll be damned, Lydecker, you almost made a joke," he challenged. "Not much of one, but still... I imagine you don't get a lot of practice..."

Krit's soft snort and Syl's chuckle were quickly masked by Lydecker's question, ignoring Tony's jab, "So how good is your info?"

Tony nodded to Gitry, who said evenly, "pretty good, but he's not one of ours – just an informant we recruited a couple months ago. His stuff doesn't always pan out, but I think it's more that the info changes or gets to him in limited doses rather than his being unreliable. According to him, though, the lock-down was implemented right after your raid, and as of a few days ago was still SOP. He had no reason to think it would change any time soon."

Lydecker nodded, considering, then offered his own challenge. "You plan to go in after lock-down," he assumed.

"With three squads of FBI, a SEAL team, 25 combat trained Marines, and full two units of Marine MP s for cleaning up after all on stand-by," Tony nodded, "just in case. Unless all of the transgenics are let out and all are in the mood to take us on, I'd say we're in pretty good shape."

"_If_ the lock-down is complete."

Tony nodded, "well, I was hoping that even if it wasn't, you three would be helpful."

Krit spoke up immediately, his voice soft. "I'm in."

"Me, too," his sister added.

Lydecker glanced at them briefly as they spoke, and his eyes narrowed as he asked them, "without hearing the plan, first? Is that what I taught you?"

"No, but you taught us that when a mission needs doing, there's usually a best way to approach it, even if it's not a guaranteed success. They have a start with the personnel they brought," Syl nodded to the agents.

"And they have the backing of a couple big agencies. That might count for something, too." Krit stood firm as well. "Colonel..."

The man seemed to waver for a moment, as the simple act of Krit asking Lydecker to join them – or at least offer his blessing, maybe – seemed to have some effect on the man. He nodded subtly, then turned to DiNozzo.

"So let's hear your plan."

_**To be continued...  
**_

* * *

**FN:** In case you were wondering about the first meeting between DiNozzo & Lydecker – Tony filled Logan in about what happened in Chapter 15 of _Concurrent Jurisdiction,_ story # 2237039 here at FFN (grr, they won't let me link it!) Since it's "ancient" history by then, it's just a retelling in a couple paragraphs, so no need to read all of CJ to get that info! 


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: Please see chapter 1 for story and character information. Only a very few more chapters to go! As always, thanks to anyone still reading. Any and all comments, reviews or thoughts welcome – they're really helpful to know what works & what tanks...

**Designation? What Designation?**

XII.

"How much do you _really_ know about Project Manticore?" As the agents ran though their proposed operation, Lydecker had poured over the building plans Gitry had produced and pointed out where the security systems were controlled, the usual guard contingent, the probable trouble spots and the cells included in the lock-down system. Now, suddenly, he stopped and looked at the agents, scrutinizing. "Do you know what you'll find, once inside?"

Tony felt a strong, chilling hunch that he knew exactly what the Colonel implied, but Gitry didn't seem to catch it. She looked back to Lydecker as if he'd questioned her investigation and said tartly, "enough to know that they need to be shut down immediately."

A dangerous glint rose in Lydecker's eyes, a glitter of challenge. "And why is that?" the Colonel baited the FBI agent.

"They created children to be super-soldiers, kept them prisoner." Her response was terse, strained; clearly Gitry found it difficult to have one of the architects of the program as an ally, even to shut it all down. "Isn't that enough?"

"The X-5s, you mean?" Lydecker didn't flich. "Like these two?"

Gitry looked a little less certain at his tone, glancing up to Krit and Syl before nodding, "yes."

He nodded sagely and pursed his lips. "You understand these designation numbers we've been throwing around – X-5s, the X-7s Agent DiNozzo mentioned a little while ago – did you think that was just a dorm assignment?" His eyes flashed cold as he focused his disdain on her. "It occurred to you, didn't it, Agent Gitry, that to reach the perfection you see in these two it took years of planning and experimentation?" His voice was ice. "It took series X-1 through X-4 to get the kinks out..."

Tony suddenly knew precisely what the Colonel was saying, and felt sickened with his crass, cold-blooded appraisal of the less-perfect Manicore offspring. "The 'kinks,'" Tony repeated involuntarily, low. "That's what you call them?"

Lydecker barely reacted to DiNozzo, his eyes still drilling into Gitry's. "Do you have any clue, Special Agent Gitry, about what you'll find inside that place?"

She hesitated, but managed, "beyond any service personnel assigned, or civilian employees, or the X-5s and X-7s there?" she asked slowly, noting Tony's reaction.

Lydecker nodded. "Oh, yes," his smile was humorless, chilling. "Where else do you think they'd keep the X-1s, X-2s, X-3s and X-4s? I don't suppose your long range surveillance is too good at differentiating one life form from another – especially when it's not designed to separate fully human from ... _less_ human." When Gitry's pallor made it clear that she had assumed they had not been 'successful' experiments – and that none survived to full term birth – he smiled wider. _Point made._

Now again in control, Lydecker broke the tension he'd created by breathing deeply, glancing at his 'kids' before turning his gaze now to the NCIS agent, whose eyes held disgust for him. "And no matter what you think of all those experiments, or Project Manticore, or me, Special Agent DiNozzo," his gloating was gone now, his demeanor intense and serious, "it may be that this mission will include the rescue of two captured X-5s, not just one..."

"Max is alive?" Syl seemed to suddenly appear nose to nose with the Colonel, a wad of his jacket gripped tightly in her hand, pulling him around to face her. "You bastard! You told us she'd been killed..."

"She _had_ been," he answered smoothly, "and there was no other way to save her ..."

Images of all the horrifying – and life-giving – techniques Manticore had at its disposal paraded though Tony's thoughts, as he speculated, "you took her inside to them..."

Lydecker shook his head. "The X-7 on guard took down Zack. They were on their way back in with him, so I ... I led them to her, too. If Max is inside, alive, to rescue, it is the _only_ way she could have survived that wound."

"She would have preferred death to going back there," Krit spat.

"You say that now; you'd all say that until the moment you're facing death, with a chance for life a few hundred feet away." He let the thought linger for a moment, before resuming, sounding more like he had before he'd turned on the FBI agent, "so she went back to Manticore, " the Colonel minimized, "and we're here _now_. If they were able to save her..."

The two X-5s glowered at Lydecker, clearly reconsidering any trust they'd offered him this far. _All this dysfunctional family stuff can come later_, Tony shook it off to focus on the extraordinary words he'd just heard, _and we need them with us in this._ "So you really think it's possible she may have survived, after all?"

Before Lydecker could answer, his phone trilled. Lydecker looked at the number displayed and his eyes flashed up quickly to DiNozzo, whose mouth hardened a little. "Logan?" the agent asked, assuming it was his cousin again doggedly trying to make contact with Max's former commander.

"No," Lydecker said as he lifted the phone, his thumb hovering over the connect button as he spoke. "It's 'Manticore...'"

XIII.

Listening to Lydecker's brief, one-sided conversation had been maddening. In a no-nonsense ballet of mistrust, he had held off the person who had called him:

"_I try to avoid people who are looking to kill me," he'd begun. Typical military man, showing no weakness, he reacted only marginally to what was said on the other end before clipping, "go ahead." But something then caused him to show some surprise, and he said, warily, "look, we both know what that means." But he'd listened, then, to whatever the person on the other end was trying to sell him._

Lydecker's face gave nothing more away, but by the time he hung up he had put the caller off with the excuse that someone would have to be contacted to move with whatever this was. Tony waited, expectantly.

"They seem to think I can put them in touch with Eyes Only," Lydecker said cooly, "and want me to schedule a meet tomorrow."

"Eyes Only?" Tony backpedaled, reminding himself he was supposed to be an out-of-towner with no reason to know about Eyes Only or his connection to either Max _or_ Manticore. "Eyes only _what_? Files? Clearance?"

"It's a person – a local vigilante," Gitry unwittingly helped Tony's charade, offering a quick, unflattering assessment. "A wannabe who publicly outs perps we haven't caught yet by hijacking TV air time to run exposés about them..." The FBI agent grumbled under her breath, "it's always a lot easier to catch the bad guys when you don't exactly have to worry about probable cause or search warrants..."

Tony hoped he was keeping his expression appropriately unenlightened. "So what's he to Manticore?"

"He's after them. He's announced to Seattle he's going to find them and expose them," Gitry explained. "Colonel, if you _do_ know this Eyes Only, maybe we could use him to get inside, rather than trying this break-in we're planning..."

"...or could use the promise of a meet _tomorrow_ to lull them to sleep tonight?" Tony refused to react when he saw Lydecker turn to him in private amusement, no matter how smoothly he'd feigned ignorance. _So Lydecker knows at least there's some connection between Logan and Eyes Only? He's wondering how much I know.._. "We can move our plans up for tomorrow morning, near the end of the shift – maybe oh-three fifty hours. It's an odd time, and gives us seventy minutes before the 6:00 a.m. shift change. If they think they're bringing you back in they aren't likely to expect you to launch an attack in the mean time, are they?"

Lydecker smirked, "Renfro? Probably not. If she thought I'd fall for something as obvious as that set-up she just tried to arrange, I doubt that it would occur to her. "

DiNozzo turned to Gitry, knowing this portion of the assignment fell almost entirely on her, given that the main component going in would be the FBI teams. "Everyone is on stand-by; any reason we can't brief everyone and move them in to position by then?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Not for what we've discussed so far. Pretty simple and direct, everyone networked on comms. I don't see a problem."

"Good." Tony turned back to the Colonel. "What do you think? Operational at 0350?"

Lydecker considered silently for a moment, then nodded. "Operational at 0350."

Tony sighed in something like relief, now that the ops clock was ticking. _Twenty four hours from now I'll be able to tell Logan everything_, he told himself. _Either way, it may give him some closure. And from what Lydecker has said ... maybe I can even take him good news about Max, too..._

XIV.

On the way back into town, both Gitry and DiNozzo were on their cell phones, Tony to the MPs' commander and Gitry to her swat team's leader, providing location, time and plans. As he spoke, Tony took advantage of the fact that the drizzly Seattle weather had dampened his hair, allowing him to rake his fingers through his spiked locks and disguise that part of his morning from his cousin. He pulled down the visor and gave himself a quick look. Another quick ruffle and rake, and his hair look more like his own than his cousin's. He snapped the visor back up.

Gitry smirked a little as she glanced at his primping. "Your cousin doesn't know you were masquerading as him?"

"No." Tony hadn't told Gitry just how involved Logan was in everything, and realized he owed her a little more, given that the entire operation was thanks to all her own work in discovering just who and what Manticore was. "I'm trying to keep him out of the loop for now. If he knew what we planned he'd find a way to be out there too, with us or on his own – and if he had a hint that Max might be alive..."

But Gitry's response was immediate, more observation than real question. "More than friends, then," she nodded, confirming her earlier guess.

_So she figured it out anyway,_ Tony mused. He admitted, "her 'death' devastated him."

Gitry glanced away from the road to look at her passenger. "Well, maybe we'll have some good news for him soon," she offered a hopeful shrug.

Tony managed a smile in return. "Yeah," he said simply.

"You two really look that much alike?" The agent asked suddenly, her manner light, her words offered to lift the mood.

Tony glanced back at her, then chuckled, dropping his head back on the headrest, remembering all the years of hearing just that. "People say we do..." he mused.

XV.

It was nearly 4:00 when Gitry dropped Tony off at Fogle Towers. Once out of the elevator on Logan's floor, Tony drew a breath to get his head together, not sure what he'd find – each day Logan had been different from the next, from manic to shut down, all in his grief over Max. _Don't even let him suspect you know a thing, DiNozzo, because if you get his hopes up and she didn't make it..._

He quietly opened the door to Logan's penthouse and stepped inside. The immediate impact of scents wafting in from the kitchen -- simmering herbs, garlic-- caught him off guard. He was glad he'd bothered to hide the spikes from his cousin, so no questions would be raised or speculation about why he'd done it; even more, he felt hopeful with this turn of events. His cousin was up, cooking for him? _Logan would be okay_, he needed to believe. _He's up, he's cooking, he's moving back to normal..._

Tony walked down the hall toward the kitchen to find his cousin standing at the sink, water splashing over vegetables he held, back on his feet again for the first time since the day he'd arrived. "Hey, something smells _great_," DiNozzo grinned. "Is this for me?"

Logan turned to see his cousin amble up to him. Unable to avoid thinking of how many times Max came in with a similar greeting, he managed a game smile. "Least I could do, when you came all this way."

"Smells like the Old Country..." Tony took a deep, appreciative sniff of the aroma.

Logan snorted, a grudging but honest grin finally elicited. "'Old Country...' You've been to Italy, what, twice, and both times just a weekend jaunt?"

"Once was four days," he corrected, "and it's in my _blood_, cuz. My people are drawn to garlic like Popeye is to spinach..."

Logan actually chuckled. "Well, good, because I have more sauce here than I can eat in a week, and with the brown outs, I don't know how long it will keep."

"No problem there – I doubt if you'll have left-overs." Tony watched as his cousin turned to cross to the work bench, the soft whirring of his exoskeleton filling the silence, and began chopping a tomato and pepper for the bowl of lettuce in front of him. After a moment, DiNozzo drew a breath and tried, "you look good, cuz, like you're feeling a little better." Tony considered the scraggly hair and week's worth of chin stubble, the pallor and dark circles that still remained. But he was acting more like _Logan,_and Tony's words were sincere. "You doin' alright?"

His clear concern touched Logan, as several emotions darted in and out of his thoughts in response – how he would never be "alright" without Max, how he must have been such a wreck, from the time his cousin arrived, how he owed Tony so much more... At the moment, though, all he could start with was "yeah..." He looked up to his cousin, who met his eyes steadily, silently offering his strength. With that, Logan drew a breath. He began, "Tony, about that... I'm sorry that I've been so out of it since you've been here..."

But Tony was shaking his head and interrupted, "hey, cuz, I barged in. No apologies with me, okay?" He looked to the younger man, trying to get a read on what was going on with him now, if he really was rallying some. "I was just kinda worried, you know – after everything else that's happened, to lose Max..."

He saw Logan's eyes glitter with pain at the words, but nothing else, as he nodded; he was handling it. Tony felt some relief that Logan really did seem to be moving ahead, but sensed he needed to handle things even more carefully, with his cousin becoming more lucid. At Logan's next words, Tony knew he'd been right.

"So what about the FBI's files – do they have anything useful?" His words were quick and quiet, as if he was afraid to hope too much. He didn't stop his rhythmic chopping, the knife glinting sharply.

"Uh – maybe," DiNozzo nodded, "they'd found the silo you mentioned, and another couple locations we can check out. No real direct surveillance yet, so that's the next step. Nothing too delaying, maybe a few hours at each location." This was the first time Tony had flat-out lied to Logan about their plans, but he was damn well not going to have his cousin caught up in any of this. "A team on each, starting tonight, so by tomorrow they hope to know if one of them is likely to be their center of operations."

"What locations? Did they say anything about the VA Hospital?" Logan pressed, repeating his growing conviction that the current incarnation of Manticore had merely moved into the facility, slowly and clandestinely easing out its former patients. "I'd like to come, too, Tony..."

"It's on the list, cuz, but they've hit more on someplace out closer to the silo, I think." He would minimize the hospital's significance but not reject it, in his hope that he could prevent Logan from running off on his own mission before they could contain Manticore. "And look, this is just a scouting mission – some long range equipment came available so we're taking a look, while we wait for the Marines to arrive."

"Let me come, Tony. I won't be underfoot; with the exo I can move as well as anyone..."

Tony felt a dull ache at that; again, he'd managed to forget, so quickly, that Logan was on his feet thanks to a mechanical contraption, and the image of his nearly pulling his cousin off-balance the last time he'd forgotten stabbed at him accusatively. He looked at the reddened, dulled eyes of his cousin now again shining in stubborn, unwavering hope, and tried to soothe, "I know; it's not that. This is an FBI operation, and they're barely tolerating _me_ along as it is." He saw the hunger and longing in Logan's eyes, and knew suddenly that his cousin needed answers more than anything, needed to know if Max was alive, if his belief that she'd somehow survived was justified, or mere fantasy... "It won't be too much longer, but sit tight, okay? Let me do this with you here, so when you really want to come out with us, we might make it happen, and neither of us will have worn out our welcome. It's their show; they're just letting me come along as a courtesy."

Logan wavered but finally nodded, trusting Tony's assurances. "Okay," he agreed softly.

"Good," DiNozzo nodded, clapping Logan gently on the shoulder, and settled into one of the stools across from him at the work bench. "It won't be too much longer, cuz. And if you want, I'll see if they let me join the team on the VA Hospital. I'll fill you in, everything I can, when I get back..."

The look he saw in return was heartbreaking in its pain and trust. "Okay, Tony," Logan agreed, softly. "I'll be here..."

XVI.

She had waited until lights out and lock-down, noting the nightly electronic and metallic snaps and crackles as the locks engaged and the electricity surged through them, reminding Max once again how, for all their strength and abilities, the transgenics here were almost sheeplike, seeing nothing wrong with being locked in every night. _Must've started the night we left_, she would think with some guilt, _and they can't even remember the difference_. Even the male X-5s, out prowling like alley cats for their nightly routine that 494 blamed on her, were back in their cells and locked down with the rest of them by 0100.

Max listened to the guards' shift change, and a general settling of the place – longer than she liked, but long enough to be certain things were settled for the night – before she pulled out the bricks she'd loosened to shimmy down into the corridor leading to Joshua's window. Now that she was this close, she wouldn't blow it all by jumping the gun and being missed on a bed check or, worse, a Manticore-style booty call from her "partner." She'd lay motionless on her cot, thinking, remembering, making promises to herself of what she would do when she was out. She made promises to come back and find Zack, remembering with pain and anger what she'd seen of him ... if there was any way he could be rescued, she would find it, she vowed ... she'd promised herself what she would say to Logan when she saw him again, what she hoped they might be, together again ...

But once on the move, she put aside all her musing about everything else and focused on her escape. She knew she might not make it out this night but she was close, so close, and with Renfro's sudden new interest in Eyes Only, Max knew she needed to get out as soon as she could manage. She had to do whatever it took to get Logan out of the line of fire, at least until they could learn how much Refro knew about the man behind the mask...

She hadn't gone far into the corridors before she saw Joshua, big and furry and smiling at her appearance. "Hey, big fellah," she smiled gently at her new companion. Joshua was starting to grow on her.

"Hey little fellah," he offered. "Max is back. 'Another night and we'll be in business,'" he quoted back to her from the night before.

"Except for those X-7s." Joshua fell into step beside her as Max headed back to the window to work at removing the bars. "Joshua, you said there's bat in their cocktail. Ever see their communications get scrambled?"

He shook his head first, but then, remembering, smiled, thinking he had something to offer her. "Not communications, maybe. But hearing. X-7s don't like alarms. Makes _them_ scrambled"

"Alarms, huh?" Max mused, an idea taking hold as she reached the barrels and started moving them away from the window, there they'd been left the night before. "What about loud noises to cover quiet ones?"

"Even better, X-7s scrambled without noise?" Max was becoming more used to Joshua's way of communicating, but she still didn't get this, or why he was smiling even more broadly at the thought. At her shrug, he explained, helping her move the barrels, "X-7s not the same after they found you, found Zack. X-7s of you and Zack not so ready to do everything the others still do. Director made lots of angry calls to a lot of people," Joshua nodded sagely, "and now afraid this place more dangerous with X-7 guards than without. Thinks X-7s pretty whack," he leaned closer with a grin, as if revealing a juicy bit of gossip. "Now, at night, she locks inside _all_ the people Father made. Outside guards not made, just ... are."

Max's eyes narrowed, and she looked outside carefully, looking for the guards who had replaced the X-7s. "You mean that all the guards out there are just – regular soldiers? No X-anything?"

"Just regular." He smiled encouragingly then, suggesting, "Max _not_ regular."

"You can say that again," she grinned, her hopes soaring, as she threw herself into her work on the bars.

"Max not regular." Joshua said – again, as she'd unwittingly prompted him – and proudly added, "Joshua not regular, too."

Max turned back to consider him, imagining what the people of Seattle would make of her newly discovered brother. With a slow, meaningful nod, her grin returned as she told him, "and that makes us a couple extra-special people," she agreed. "So let me get to work in these bars, and we'll see just how special we can be."

_**... to be continued ...**_


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

**A/N**: Please see chapter 1 for story and character information. As always, thanks for coming back to read. Any and all comments, reviews or thoughts appreciated.

**Designation? What Designation?**

XVII.

At 3:33 a.m., Tony found himself waiting with one of the four FBI teams tasked for the take-down, realizing that even this much access was more than he should expect. _This has got to be McGee's doing_, he realized, and stifled a small grin at the thought. _I need to remember to thank him – again._

His earpiece crackled to life with a soft double tap, the signal the two X-5s had planned to communicate that they'd crossed the outer perimeter – one tap – and made it inside – second tap – still together and without incident. With that, the swat team started moving toward the property perimeter.

DiNozzo glanced at the sky. _Maybe the rest of Seattle isn't crazy about putting up with a rainy climate but I bet the cops love the cloud cover_, he mused, _especially during a full moon – like tonight._ Shaking off the errant thoughts to focus on the job ahead, he fell in behind the third man in his unit, fully focused, as they moved in closer. He'd waited two decades to see Manticore get their just desserts for what they'd done to Max and the others, and was not about to let anything distract him from whatever lay ahead...

XVIII

Logan sighed again, finally opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling, feeling exhausted but unable to sleep. He could hear that Tony had tried to be quiet as he'd gotten up and gotten ready to leave, but between Logan's clandestine activities and living alone, he usually heard anything out of the ordinary, no matter how deeply he slept – and knowing where his cousin was at the moment, no way could he go back to sleep now.

So he finally sat up. Maybe if he could get into some files, the morning would pass a little more quickly until Tony got back and filled him in on what they'd found. Knowing it wasn't too likely, he glanced at his bedside clock –_ 4:20_.

He groaned, but kept moving. In just a few hours, he might have some more news on Manticore. Until then, he'd do what he could to add to whatever Tony was finding...

XIX

As she had the night before, Max settled in to work on the weakest bar at the window, methodically chipping away at the steel framing and mortar surrounding it. As he had before, Joshua sat slightly apart from her, watching her, maybe even standing guard, as he asked her about "out there." He peppered her with questions and offered his own speculation about the world beyond the bars, seeking confirmation from her as to how close he'd come in his guesses. _Poor guy would never be able to blend in, even if he could get away from here,_ Max realized, _but he's still dyin' to try..._

She hadn't been working too long when Joshua suddenly stiffened, standing and moving silently down the corridor a way. Max looked back toward him briefly, but kept at her task. _Dogs' noses are better than cats' are – hearing too?_ she wondered, distractedly. _Of course, it looks as if Joshua is more dog DNA than I am cat, so either way..._

She heard what she suspected was an involuntary growl from his direction.

She froze at that, listening. "Joshua?" she tried, low enough that few others would hear.

Nothing.

She slipped back to the floor and edged along the hall to where she saw Joshua poised, listening, only marginally trying to be inconspicuous as he stood in a shadow, near a wall, but not otherwise hiding. Max silently moved closer to him, listening hard – until she too heard something 'wrong.' Something – quiet but moving; something that wasn't normal 4 AM Manticore...

"What's wrong?" she tried, low. "Joshua?"

"Guards are down," Joshua reported, still listening closely. "But cells all still locked – electric current in system not broken. So no one allowed out of their cell." Joshua looked confused, and turned to Max for her thoughts. "Someone here to take down guards?"

"Good question, Joshua – you're sure they're down?"

Joshua paused and listened, but before starting his reply he growled again suddenly – but this time, in anger and resentment, from deep in his throat.

"What?" Max urged.

"Lydecker," he snarled.

XX.

"_In..." _

Tony heard Syl's one syllable that spoke volumes. "In," for her part of the mission, was to get into the central security office and find a way to freeze the electronic locks securing the transgenics into their cells. They had discussed several options with Lydecker which, frankly, had left Tony behind, but had come upon a couple ideas which they believed would allow, at best, only manual over-ride on individual cells, which required a specific, coded key, accessible only to the senior security guard on duty at the time. Lydecker, Tony decided, was right about this 'Renfro's' decisions regarding her highly developed super-soldiers – her fear of them led her to make some stupid decisions, trading the safety of the project from outside forces for her own little paranoia that they'd turn on her someday.

_Kinda nice how that worked out,_ he mused to himself.

"Alpha moving," he heard, the SWAT team's report that it was moving around from its original role for forced entry, if needed, to its fall back position as back up, once the X-5s made it onto the command center. That was Team One's cue. Seeing the signal from the unit's commander, DiNozzo was immediately on his feet, falling into step with the others, as he heard the FBI agent breathe into his mike, "One moving."

_Finally – Manticore, _DiNozzo thought as they moved inside the facility. _You bastards._ Letting the last errant thought recede, the special agent focused fully on the plan, on the sounds and sights around him, as he and the FBI agents moved stealthily into the belly of the beast, where he might finally learn just what had happened to Max .

XXI

"Lydecker's here? Inside?" Max whispered, an uncertain hope rising – she'd never really trusted him, but he'd led their last assault on the place...

_An unsuccessful one, Max_... she reminded herself...

But from everything she remembered, and all she'd heard since then, it wasn't his fault. She'd even begun to think, from those strange, occasional rants from the Director, that not only was he was on their 'Most Wanted' list, but that Renfro has even tried to 'eliminate' him a time or two.

_So what's this – Round Two, Lydecker vs. Manticore?_

"Who else is with him, Joshua, can you tell?"

The tall man stood rooted, listening – sniffing. He shook his head ... paused ... and listened again, closely. He finally drew a breath and said, slowly, "Lydecker – and two more near him – but many more on radio with them ... I can hear their signals in many more radios outside."

"Are you sure?" Max pressed. _Picking up radio transmissions that far? Hard to believe, but then, that's what they said about her sometimes, too. Damn, _she conceded.

He nodded quickly. "Happened maybe two other times, at old place. Many soldiers come and move out Manticore project, bring it here. Before that – sometimes soldiers come and join training." He suddenly paused, as if remembering, and looked at Max in concern. "Not all leave."

Refusing to start imagining all that could mean, Max pressed, "any idea how many?"

Joshua listened again, then pointed above and away from them. "Maybe four out there... four more there, and ... there." He pointed in opposing directions. "And..." He turned, listening. "More – moving. One group now spreading out and coming inside – maybe six." He paused, and said, "wait-- more now. Group, there," he pointed, "now moving too..."

_Definitely an assault on Manticore, then... but if Lydecker was there, who were the others? Wasn't Manticore still a government project? If so ... who could he get in such numbers to join his assault?_

_...or __**was**__ it his assault? Was Lydecker compromised, and used as a pawn to get someone else inside? The South Africans, maybe? Or ... did he finally sell out?_

"Joshua, what can you tell me about them, anything else? Are they noisy, or quiet? Do they know what they're doing?" she whispered, her mind darting back to the room where she'd been trying to dig the bar out of the window frame, mentally searching it for anything usable as a weapon.

He spoke immediately. "Move like soldiers, not scientists. Some move like better soldiers, some like new recruits." he paused, then looked at Max, quizzically. "Some smell like you..." At Max's startled look, Joshua noted that Max honestly didn't know about them being there too, so added, confirming for her, "smell like cat."

"X-5s?"

"Two more, not in cages here. Two more Joshua smell only one other time" he offered, understanding what it would mean to her. "Same time Max first come back to Manticore."

_Max gulped. Krit and Syl? With Lydecker?_

_But then ... who were all the troops?_

"..and guns. Many guns." Max wasn't sure if Joshua had seen anything in her reaction, but his warning about firearms was definitely cautionary. "Machine oil for cleaning guns, smell is all around us here. Not here when you came down tonight."

She nodded. "Joshua, I have to see what's going on. Lydecker might be trying to help us..."

"Lydecker help Lydecker. No one else."

Even in the circumstances, Max blinked at that, then nodded,"never truer words, Big Fellah ... but for whatever reason, he may think helping us will help him. I think he and Renfro had a falling out..."

"Renfro wants Lydecker 'contained,'" Joshua quoted from a conversation he remembered now.

"I bet..." Max nodded. "Look, Joshua – what's my best chance of getting up to where they are, without being seen?"

"Out window..." he started moving back where she'd been working earlier.

"No, I haven't gotten the bar out yet; it's gonna take..." Her words died as she watched Joshua calmly and cleanly pull the bars – imbedded framework and all– out of the mortar and rock around the window in one smooth tug. "Hey, you coulda told a girl last night..." she griped.

"Little Fella never ask," he shrugged, an amused smile there.

Max shook her head, rolling her eyes, but got back to business quickly. Looking out the window, she turned back to ask, "it might be harder to get back inside if I go out here. What about from the inside – can you tell where Lydecker is now?"

Joshua listened, then said "still in security office, where locks and controls are. Where new X-5s are – Max's friends," he tried.

"Yeah, Joshua, I think they are. Best way to get there?"

He seemed to waver for a moment, but then said "you follow me." Joshua led her toward another corridor but not far into the passageway, stopped and turned to her. "Regular soldiers still there too – and guns outside. Max and Joshua, out the window – better plan."

She shook her head. "I gotta go look, Joshua – if it is my friends, there's a chance that they may be looking for me – I hope so, anyway. And they may be looking to take down Manticore and Renfro, stop them from treating everyone in here like lab rats."

Joshua reacted, but not as Max expected. While at first his eyes took on the hope he'd shown before about getting out, away from his prison, he then looked back to her, a new sadness there. "And who will come in? Manticore full of people who don't look like you – like upstairs people," he nodded toward the ceiling. "Max tell Joshua not to go outside, people get scared, Joshua must hide in basement there, too. Not enough basements out there for all of us, Little Fella."

Struck suddenly by the ugly truth, moved by the wisdom behind Joshua's words, Max knew at that moment Joshua had been the only one to have considered what would happen _after_ Manticore was conquered. Swallowing hard, knowing full well the weight of what she promised, Max vowed, "Joshua, I swear right now – if we get out of here, if we close down Manticore once and for all – then everyone here will have a safe place in this world to call home. I have no idea how – but we will. I promise. Deal?"

She stuck out her hand to him, looking him straight in the eye, and Joshua took it, shook it once, firmly, and grinned. "Deal," he agreed.

XXII

Max and Joshua jogged silently down the passage where they'd come earlier, but it was no longer as still and as empty as it had seemed before – the long, underground corridor now carried sounds of those trapped in their cells, both those of the earlier series, pacing and moaning their worry, each reacting to what they could sense of the disruption taking place upstairs, and of those of the later series, more 'eloquent' in their oaths and complaints, voicing their anger at being captive or their promises of help for whatever battle was brewing.

Max recognized the voices of several of her 'classmates' from her training; a couple even saw that she was out in the hall and appealed to her.

"452! Let me out! What the hell is going on?"

"452, get us out of here! Do you want the place to be taken over? Unlock the cells!"

"452 – _Max!_"

She had been able to run past the others without stopping, but this last – a now-too-familiar voice – slowed her, her steps faltering.

He must have seen it because Alec urged again "Max, wait! What's happening up there?"

She wavered. She was so certain she didn't owe any one of them any more than the next, only what all of them deserved, a way out of here ... but Alec ...

Alec, she owed, at least for not immediately turning her in for trying to escape. For not pressing her into sex when he easily could have ... for lying to Renfro at report. She came to a halt, irritated at the debt, then quickly turned to stalk back to his cage.

"Hey – good," he grinned, "lemme out."

"I don't think I would if I could, but since that's not an option right now I don't have to agonize with myself," she snapped at him, but frowned a little, looking up & down the corridor. "Everyone's locked in?"

"You're the one with the apparent access, not me," he snorted, "but given the recent rules about night time lock down and what I hear out there, then yeah, I suspect everyone's in – other than you and your boyfriend, there. Uh – does he know about the cat DNA thing?" At Joshua's quick growl in response, Alec snorted, "yeah, guess so."

Shaking off his pointless cracks, Max snorted dismissively and muttered, "I'm going to check it out.." Alec spoke up to stop her again.

"Max – wait!" When she turned for one last, sour look, he tried, "just – see if you can't find the switch up there, huh? Let us out?"

"I'll see what I can do – _after_ I know things will be better with you out than in."

As she took off again, Alec called heartily, "that's my girl!" to her disappearing form. Once she'd disappeared from view, Alec's grin faded a bit and he muttered, "sure hope you decide it's 'out.'" As he stood at the impassable, bolted door for another few moments, he heard the sounds of all the others like him, created by those upstairs who had him caged, and heard the mingled anger, fear, and confusion among them. _Damn_, he swore, aiming a fast kick at the door, then grunted and crossed his small cell, dropping onto his cot, trying for patience. _It's all on the renegade and her faithful canine companion? Gimme a break_, he moaned to himself. _Just what Renfro has been afraid of, all this time. Hope she's happy she was right..._

XXIII

As they crossed into the facility, more chatter was finding its way into Tony's earpiece as the reports started coming in: Syl had taken the control room and had turned it over to Lydecker to guard, returning to Krit, not long behind, and with him had easily incapacitated the few guards along the area of the control room. Without clear threat, the SEAL team set up a perimeter to allow the others coverage as they came and went. Team One, and behind them Team Two, had been now tasked to sweep the facility to determine if other guards or employees were nearby, and the several pockets of non-transgenic, military guards on site were overtaken easily by the insertion teams, a few of the troops even surrendering when they saw that their attackers were FBI.

"Lydecker was right," one of the agents muttered to no one in particular. "Leaving the place to the run of the mill soldiers, none of their specially-trained soldiers on hand – and what do you bet these Army troops didn't choose to be assigned here?"

The reports came more quickly, the apparent success of the mission warming the teams' comfort level with even more chatter and ever-decreasing levels of alert. Still professional, all continued to keep their guard up until the whole place was cleared, but they were more comfortable fanning out, covering more ground without back up so close at their elbows.

As did the others, Tony took a part of a corridor, walking carefully down one long, dark hall to peer into empty rooms, finding training facilities, more labs than made him comfortable, and further, ominous-looking rooms with observation glass walls, patient chairs that bore straps and metal clamps where a human's limbs would be, and gleaming, silent machinery...

Without warning, DiNozzo was grabbed from behind by someone at least a foot taller than he, and a hand clamped over his mouth. He was pinned so completely and suddenly he couldn't move at all – and was so stunned, he was silent.

A voice rumbled in his ear, from behind, clearly the giant who held him. "You stay quiet..."

A demand or a question, DiNozzo wasn't sure, but he nodded and the hand slowly lifted off his mouth. Breathing again, his mind scrambled for an out. "Look, I was just trying to find my way back," he invented, conversationally, his sometimes-charming wits the only thing he could manipulate at the moment. "I got turned around from the others..."

But at that moment, he heard it, from in front of him – a small gasp of relief, almost a laugh – decidedly feminine. "Tony..." she whispered.

Suddenly DiNozzo forgot all about the huge form behind him, still holding him captive. "Max?" he dared.

And at that, from the shadows in front of him stepped the woman he knew from his cousin's love for her - thinner, paler, _alive_ - a gaunt warrior face with intense brown eyes that softened in recognition as she quickly moved close to wrap her arms around him...

"...Tony," she choked.

_...to be continued._


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: Wow, thanks to all of you who left comments for this last chapter or set new alerts for this story; it was so good to see them coming in! I know it's shameful, but seeing an enthusiastic reaction makes me want to run right back and get more of this posted! As always, thank you to everyone for reading, and please keep all comments coming – they really are very much appreciated.

**Designation? What Designation?**

XXIV.

DiNozzo blinked away the moisture in his eyes that surprised him as much as Max had. As his arms circled the slender form, he could feel her breathing catch, too, and sensed her relief to see him.

But almost as quickly as she'd launched into his arms, Max pulled back a little to look at his face as she pressed, "Tony – what are you doing here? Who's upstairs?" Looking into the familiar green eyes, she had to ask, glancing back behind the agent hopefully, "is... Logan...?"

"They're FBI, Max," Tony assured her, "they're shutting down the place; pulling the plug on Manticore." At the growing disbelief DiNozzo saw in Max's eyes, he continued, "finally, word of all this got to the right people. We'll get you back home, and I think, finally ... you can stop running." He watched as the idea began to sink in for her, and then added, "and – no, Logan's at home." At the mention of his cousin's name, the dark eyes shifted again to seek his, looking for information about the man she loved. With an apologetic shrug, Tony admitted, "I lied to him about all this – or, I've told him everything, but only up until about twenty four hours behind where things really are. He thinks we're here and a couple other places tonight, just running surveillance." He shrugged again, not really all that guiltily. "It was the only way I could think to keep him away from being in the middle of things." He saw the glow in her eyes as she processed it all, the confirmation that Logan was alright, that he would have wanted to be here with them, to rescue her, and added, with a rueful chuckle of pride, "if I hadn't managed to convince him they were on it and going in, he would have been here, too, probably only about a day or two behind us. Just a home computer and some brain cells, and Logan was only about forty eight hours behind everything the FBI could manage to figure out, even with the help of a few files lifted clandestinely at NCIS over the years."

An uncertain smile began to cross Max's features, as if what had happened over the past weeks made her slow to believe that the news could really all be so good. Even in the circumstances, even with his assurances, Max had to ask. "But ... he's okay?"

Tony looked at the concern and yearning still filling her features, and felt himself smile softly, knowing that in another hour or so, there would be no one happier on the planet than his cousin. "He's okay. He misses you, more than was good for him, but he'll be way better than okay when he sees you."

She nodded, her eyes glittering with a sudden, new misting of tears as she started finally trusting what it all meant, that she might not be a captive of Manticore much longer – and that she might see Logan again before another lights out went by. With her smile widening as she let the thought warm her, she suddenly wondered aloud, "Tony ... how did you get involved with the FBI here, for all this?"

The DiNozzo ease was back. "Old friends," he grinned. With that as a reminder that Max hadn't been alone, and that her companion seemed to be someone capable of taking out several of the invading FBI agents without much effort, Tony gave himself a mental head-smack for dropping his guard, even in the circumstances. He started to glance back around behind him. "Hey, speaking of ... who's your friend? He ought to be playing linebacker for the Redskins, and not ... "

He heard a shifting at his elbow, and suddenly had the sense that the 'wall' behind him backed off a step or two.

"Oh, that's Joshua..." Max shifted too, to bring Tony's attention back on her, and lifted a hand to his arm to assist in her deflection. "He's ... uh ..." For the first time since he'd arrived, Max hesitated, as if hiding something. Tony looked a little closer and she smiled, with an awkward shrug, "well, he's on our side. He's been a big help in the past couple days, since I met him."

Tony weighed the quick retreat of his captor with what he saw now in Max. When she said nothing more, DiNozzo tried, "okay, that's great. Does he work here?"

Max seemed to find some humor in that, as she raised an eyebrow to hedge, "not exactly..."

"Well, whatever, we can be sure the FBI knows that he's one of the good guys..."

Max still seemed unconvinced, and glanced behind Tony, presumably at her new companion. She then appeared to make up her mind, and looked back to DiNozzo with a wry smile. "Okay..." she grinned widely now. "Tony – meet Joshua. Joshua ... this is Tony. He's a good friend..."

Tony watched Max as she spoke and saw, as she finished, that she nodded behind him, her eyes inviting him to turn around. Uncertain what her demeanor implied but trusting that Max wasn't setting him up, he drew a breath. Lifting his hand, ready to offer a hearty handshake and a tired old cliche, DiNozzo turned as he started to say, "any friend of Max is a friend of mine..."

XXV.

It was still dark outside as Logan filled his mug with freshly brewed coffee and headed back to the computer. A headache was working at him, thanks to his not sleeping well that night, but with the extra sleep he'd gotten since Tony's arrival and mental balm of having his "big cuz"'s assistance in the hunt, he actually felt a bit better than he had in weeks.

_...better than you have since Max has been ... gone... _he admitted to himself, as he pulled at the steaming brew and waited for the computer array to wake up, feeling a bit of guilt that he hadn't thought to set the timer to start a pot of coffee for Tony, so he'd have some before he left. Images of what his cousin might be finding on their surveillance kept circling in his thoughts, and he was glad that Tony had managed to get with the team that would be going out to look around at the old Veteran's Hospital. _It makes so much sense that __**that's**__ the place, for so many reasons,_ he thought yet again as he called up the most recent satellite images of the facility, still too dark to make out anything but the rough shapes of the buildings and tree cover. He trusted Tony to determine if it was indeed the place that had become the fallback facility for Manticore – he had no choice but to trust him – but as soon as they confirmed which facility was Manticore, and their raid planned – no way would he stay home, not even for his cousin...

XXVI.

As Tony's words faded in the air he could see only the form of a large man, a few feet away from him, in shadows like the ones that had hidden Max before. "Hey, I won't bite," DiNozzo added with his patented smart ass grin, hoping to break the ice.

A muffled sounding voice spoke up, taking on a note of sudden hope."Joshua won't bite, either," And with that, the man shuffled forward a step or two, large brown eyes looking hopeful as well, sticking out a large hand to shake. "A friend of Max..." he added.

_...and, unbidden, Tony flashed back to Abby's lab, many years before, where she demonstrated to anyone who would stop to watch the talents of a large German Shepherd that would shake hands on command..._

Tony suddenly felt himself gaping at the man and snapped his jaw shut, still unable to tear his eyes from the large, flattened nose and the cleft upper lip, divided into two dewlaps of unquestionably canine origin. Somewhere, Tony registered the sharp, pointed teeth – _his canines_,_ of course_, the agent groaned inwardly – as, for some reason, he simultaneously noted the man's awkward pronunciation that made Max's name sound more like "Macks" than anything...

"Hiya..." DiNozzo managed, weakly, wondering if he was looking anywhere close to pleasantly sociable, as he hoped.

"Hiya," Joshua echoed, beaming. Apparently it was sociable enough for "Mack's" new friend. "Tony," he added, proudly. "Any friend of Mack's is a friend of mine, too."

"That's good," he heard himself saying as he nodded, stupidly. Max was grinning widely now, and Tony decided he hadn't insulted either of them too badly. "Well, now that we've all been introduced ... Max," he turned to her, noticing again her pallor and thinness, and was able to remember why he was there. "Isn't it about time we get you home?"

Tony was certain of the yearning he saw in her, but she shook her head. "Not yet, Tony – not 'til I see what's happening up there. Did they find the Director? I don't think she's usually here this late."

"Director gone," Joshua said, with certainty. "Home." He looked meaningfully at Max, and suddenly, even Tony could see it: _Max had a home, the Director had a home. What did Joshua have, outside Manticore?_

"Max – look," Tony managed to get his thoughts back to the op, and tried, "you've been their prisoner all this time. They nearly killed you, from what Logan said." His look was concerned, supportive. "No one would think less of you if you left now."

"I would," she whispered.

Tony looked at the pale face, her expressive eyes large and sober, and wondered once again what it must have been like for her, both when she was a child, and these past weeks. He couldn't help but believe that the sooner he got her back to Logan, the better for them both. Determined, he tried reasoning with her. "Max, it's nearly over with, anyhow. The teams have the guards covered, all the X-series are locked in their..." He paused suddenly, at a new concern. "Max, how did you get out? Weren't you locked in like the rest? Did others get out, too?" He frowned. "I should let them know upstairs if there are others; we wouldn't want anything to happen just because of some confusion..."

"No, everyone was locked in. _I_ was locked in, too – but I'd been working on an escape route outa here for a while, so had gotten out again and was downstairs, trying to find a way out of the building. That's where I met Joshua – he's off the grid – they don't even know he's here."

"Off the grid," Joshua nodded, with approval.

"From what I can tell I'm the only one who wanted out of this place. Joshua and I are the only ones not locked up, as far as I know. Joshua?"

He nodded again, now in agreement. "Everyone in cells, except Macks and Joshua. Guards all quiet." He paused. "Tony's soldiers not so quiet, but are the only ones out now."

Tony lifted an eyebrow and smirked at Joshua's critique of the elite FBI teams, then looked back to Max. "We have well-trained teams from the FBI up there, Max –noisy, but effective," he added for Joshua's benefit, rolling his eyes his way briefly, "... Marines, even. You must have been put through hell and back, these last weeks. We can take over now... "

"No, I've got to help with this," Max insisted, her voice carrying the strength of purpose DiNozzo knew he couldn't dissuade. "If the Director gets away and I didn't do what I could to stop her, it would be all on me. No matter what they do upstairs, Tony, it won't be over as long as she's out there. She showed me that she has all the files, all the years of research, everything, all of Manticore on a couple little discs. She's as ready to torch this whole place as to save it; we're only the products of the research she can easily just carry out in her purse. She'd set everything up again somewhere in a heartbeat – and knows she can get rich doing it." Max wound down and was quiet for only another moment before she shrugged, "even if I was only on the receiving end of all this, I'm a part of it. I need to do this."

DiNozzo nodded. "Okay," he conceded, realizing her assistance could be invaluable, given her brief but intimate familiarity with the workings of Manticore and its current Director. "You want to help us be sure to get the Director wrapped up too; okay, let's do it. We got in before anyone could sound an alarm. I'm hoping that wherever she is, she won't have a clue what's going on here, and the sooner we find her the more likely that is. So..." he looked at the pair of mis-matched transgenics. "Where do we find her?"

"What time is it – 4:30? This time of morning, I don't know; I don't know where she lives." Max looked to Joshua, who shrugged, and she turned back to Tony. But suddenly her expression lightened, and an ironic smile began to grow. "But I know someone I suspect knows just about everything there is to know about Manticore..."

XXVII.

Alec had forced himself to lay unmoving on his cot, despite the sobs and shrieks of the "'nomlies" – he still thought of them by that name, given that none of his instructors or COs had ever bothered to offer him an alternative – as they bewailed their confusion and fear. He wasn't sure if they were any more disturbing than the calls and pleading of his own squad mates, each one of them frustrated and angry at being locked down and out of the loop. _At least the poor 'nomlie bastards are squawking because they don't understand what's going on, or can't be any more articulate,_ he snorted to himself. _But when we get out of here the others are going to have a lot of explaining to do for their lack of discipline..._

At the thought, he brightened momentarily. _Maybe it's all just another test of some sort._ He grinned to himself at that. If so, compared to the others, he was passing with spectacular aplomb and ease. Maybe it would rate him another choice assignment or two...

But at the very first sound of Max and her dog-buddy back in the hall, he was on his feet and at the small window in his door in an instant...

"Max, it's about time!" he urged. "C'mon and tell your old breeding partner what's going on out there."

At Alec's unfortunate choice of words, Max cringed and looked to Tony, who was trying very hard not to look at her for an explanation. She rolled her eyes and promised him, "that's the only reason he's still alive – he was sent in to ... to follow the Director's orders for repopulating Manticore with the next generation of X-5s. When I told him I'd rather swallow glass, he got the hint and just hung out until it was time for the tomcats to be put back in their cages for the night."

Tony glanced at the good-looking X-5 behind the barred window, unsure of the proper way to express his appreciation for his not banging the gong with his cousin's soul mate. Conveniently, the X-5 spoke first, as the men's eyes met.

"Hey ..." Alec said warily, looking at the trio, then back to the other X-5. "What, Max, you bring some friends in from the old neighborhood?"

"Shut up, Alec, we need your help." Max dropped her voice so low that Tony, even as he stood right by her side, could barely hear, catching only occasional words, like "Director" and "detail."

The cockiness faded from the 'breeding partner''s face, and a more sober, calculating expression appeared. His words were also hard to hear, but Tony got the gist of it: he'd figured out something was going down, and that they did not want the Director to slip out of the net being cast over Manticore. Since he had information they needed, he was willing to trade that information for his freedom...

But Max was shaking her head. "I don't trust you _that_ much, Alec – I don't know what arrangement you have with her, but I've been around long enough to know you're one of the favorites – you've been out on assignment more than most, up until the recent crack down you were coming and going as you pleased." Max sighed, and turned to Tony, "if Lydecker's still up there, maybe he knows where..."

"She has a house on the grounds," Alec interrupted, his words now clipped, terse. "A half mile northwest, behind the facility – a house that used to be used as the hospital superintendent's home. She may have one security detail posted at the entry gate near the front of the residence, but there hasn't been much chatter lately other than her fixation with Eyes Only... no reason for her to have upped her detail."

Max wavered, looking at the grim determination that had replaced the cocky attitude she'd always seen before in the hazel eyes. In grudging but sincere appreciation of his information, somehow knowing he was being as truthful as he knew how, she finally offered, "thanks."

"For the record, Max," Alec added, a trace of bitterness in his voice now. "You see what sort of 'favorite' I am around here – locked in a cage when I'm not sent out on a mission for them, just another of their happier experiments. If your friends can shut down their little workshop here ..." Alec paused, as if suddenly aware of all he was saying, before he just shook his head and said simply, "well then, I'm all for it. And you know you've got to get the Director contained or it'll all start up again..."

"I know." She considered him again, and nodded, "thanks."

"Yeah, well, when you and your home boys sit down to decide what to do with your prisoners... just keep it in mind."

Tony was turning to go, ready to find Gitry and snag a few of the FBI agents to head out to find this Director who both Max and this Alec said needed to be found, but Max's expression stopped him. She was still standing motionless before the cell door, looking silently in at Alec, her look now one of hurt, of torn emotions. "You aren't _prisoners_," she tried, he thought clearly painful for her. "It's the FBI. They're not Manticore..."

"You sure about that, 'Max?'" Alec challenged. "Of course, you're out there, and we're in here. From where I sit, feels about the same as the last bunch of captors."

"We're not..." she whispered. Suddenly aware again of Tony at her side, she focused on the mission remaining and glanced guiltily up at him before briefly turning back to Alec. "You'll see." Without waiting for Alec to argue again, Max turned toward Joshua and asked, "Do you know where the house is, Joshua? The one Alec said is a half mile from here?"

The shaggy head nodded. "Not know that Director live in old house, but Joshua see house sometimes, when looking around outside."

"You know where the guard is posted?"

Joshua nodded again. "Guard always stay at house gate – looks like security system monitor there for house."

Max smiled again, softly. "Works for me. Tony," she looked up to the agent. "I wanna do this."

He made one last try at dissuading her. "The teams upstairs don't usually hand off a part of their ops, Max..."

She shrugged, and asked, "you gonna tell them?" She nodded then, as if considering it, and murmured, looking away from him, "sure, you go get started on that, and while the Feds are figuring out their take-down strategy, I'll go pay the Director a visit and hold her there for you."

"Macks and Joshua visit." As both Tony and Max looked to the long-haired transgenic, they saw him smile, his sharp canines glinting slightly in the sparse light. "Joshua want to visit for a long time."

Max grinned, but a new, determined look took over her features. "Tony, looks like you an either come along or get out of the way. I have a score to settle with the Director... and I want to be sure she's not going to get away." Even more than the torture she'd suffered at the hands of the twisted woman, Max remembered the Director's rants about Eyes Only, and felt the same chill she'd felt before, imagining what she might do to Logan if she were ever to find him. "She's made some threats about a friend of mine ... I need to see she doesn't get a chance to make good on them."

Tony knew he was beaten, and sighed, "okay. But you have to wonder why Lydecker didn't go after the Director himself already, if he hasn't yet. He's got to know what she has on Manticore, and where to find her..."

Max realized he was right. "Maybe he figures they put a lid on things effectively enough she hasn't been warned. You have the property perimeter being watched?"

DiNozzo nodded. "Front and back – and Lydecker was in on the plan..."

"So Don knows he has her boxed in; not so much rush." She turned quickly to the other transgenic. "Joshua, can you tell if he's still here?"

Joshua lifted his nose to the air, sniffed twice, delicately, then curled his lip. "Lydecker upstairs. Still in the middle of many others."

Tony blinked at the exchange, rattled by the reminder of just how canine Max's new buddy really was, and blurted, without thinking, "pretty handy nose you have, Joshua."

"Dog DNA," Joshua explained patiently, as if Tony wouldn't have noticed. "Macks is cat. Cat nose not as good as dog."

Tony noticed that Max suppressed a grin — she was clearly growing fonder by the moment of the unusual man – but she agreed, "and if Joshua's nose put Lydecker upstairs, that's my cue to get to the Director now, while he's still up there."

"No way are you going without me," Tony gestured back down the hall, and the three began moving toward the stairs at the end of the corridor. "Logan would have my ass..."

Max grinned again at the thought of seeing Tony's "li'l cuz" again soon. "This way – we can have you get the Director's, instead..."

_**To be continued...**_


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: Again, thanks to everyone who has read and commented – it means a lot to know that the story is still being followed. Any and all comments, pro, con or in between – are very much appreciated. Please let me know if you're still along for the ride!

**Designation? What Designation?**

**XXVIII.**

Logan had been awake and at the computer for about an hour when his mail icon flashed and an address Asha sometimes used appeared in the corner of his screen.

Blinking in some surprise that he had forgotten how anxious he'd been to hear from her, he realized that the shock and resulting relief of Tony's appearance in Seattle had thrown him more than he'd realized. _Maybe I've been more sleep-deprived than I thought,_ he admitted to himself, brining up the mail screen. _But if she's come through with Carson's notes ..._

He opened the message, downloaded the attached file quickly and immediately erased the e-mail sending it, cleaning any record of it on his end. Once done, he entered the agreed password on the encrypted file and opened the document to see photos... and notes, directions – almost a recipe, of sorts...

His eyes flickered over the deadly combination of chemicals used by a member of S1W to make a compound with significantly more explosive capability than C-4, as stable and manipulable as the original, but far more concentrated, requiring much less to get the job done – so much so that the man identified only as 'Carson' had perfected a way of lining his clothing in a way that would not be noticed to any but the closest scrutiny. He proved its efficacy by singlehandedly destroying a two story building, killing at least thirty five, all with the power of the compound he'd worn in, on his person...

Logan had asked Asha for Carson's notes, and she'd immediately been suspicious, recognizing how deeply he'd been grieving; she knew he'd had the formula for months and had said that Eyes Only had successfully duplicated the compound. He'd managed to convince her that Eyes Only knew someone who believed the explosives could be set remotely, but wanted Carson's original notes to ensure the proper distribution of chemicals. Logan wanted to believe that he'd convinced Asha of his purpose, but she'd remained skeptical, and asked more than once if he was thinking clearly, given his mental state after Max had died. With her e-mail, however, it appeared he'd been successful.

As he looked over the man's notes he could see exactly the amounts and placement of the explosive needed to turn a human being into a walking – or maybe in his case, rolling, he reflected grimly – explosive. Maybe one day someone would know how to put this material on a timer or remote, allowing one to stroll into a place and simply leave a coat or similar, innocent item behind, thereby placing the bomb. Maybe one day, an act of self-immolation wouldn't be necessary. But for now, the only guarantee of targeted, successful destruction was to carry the compound in on one's back – literally – and set it off at the time and place it was needed. Logan knew as completely and deeply as he knew anything that the sole reason for his surviving what Max had not was to destroy Manticore any way he knew how – and if he could manage to get inside, get to the center of operations, to its heart, where all its records and intel lay ... well then, it would be done.

He didn't allow himself to dwell on that fact that for the second time in his life, he was plotting his own death, by his own hand. It wasn't like before when he'd flirted with suicide, he'd told himself when the idea forced its way through. Before, he really _wanted_ to die. This time ... this time, he didn't really care. This time, it was all more distant, less emotional; it was as if he planned this for someone else. He was past caring either way, if he lived or died; it was no longer about him. Without Max, there wasn't much reason to keep living; beyond the eradication of Manticore, he had no further purpose or goal. Anything he had done to this point to keep himself physically alive – eating, sleeping, avoiding danger – was simply to see this one last mission through. Enough of him had died that night when Max died that most of the time, he too was dead to anything other than this one, final mission. The few times he found himself still alive, still raw from the emotional flaying he took with her death, he knew that he couldn't continue much longer in such pain. The only relief he could find was to retreat back to the dead part of his being and simply wait 'til the time was right, 'til the time he could get inside and end it all. _For Max,_ he'd find himself repeating countless times during the day. _For Max..._

Seeing Carson's files and notes now, Logan's focus spiked again, and he felt the adrenaline-fed craving to get inside, to get his revenge on Manticore for all they had done to all the X-5s, to the employees they'd killed to keep the project secret – to Max ... to _him_, for taking Max from him. His madness was, as always, additionally fueled by guilt that he hadn't done this _before_ Max had died, sharpened in the black despair of hindsight. At times like this he told himself that the tiny flame of belief he still held that she was still alive, somehow, was simply another phase of his madness, a denial of the obvious. _They will not hurt anyone else,_ he vowed, _they will not destroy any more._ As always, he found himself almost chuckling aloud at the fatal irony of the project: _a project to create life now spends all its time destroying life, destroying more lives even than those it made: not only Max and Tinga ... but Charlie, Case ... and now, him too. How many more lives were destroyed with each single life it took?_

With the thought of the long list of Manticore victims, another face came to mind. _Don't forget that Tony's here now ..._ a small, inner voice intruded. _And here to take down Manticore, too. He'll stop you from doing this ... he'd never let you do this..._ Logan's eyes dropped from the screen as for the first time his thoughts wavered from the single-minded intensity that had driven him on to planning this siege on Manticore. _Tony wasn't supposed to be here; he wasn't supposed to know about any of this until it was too late..._

His cousin's involvement definitely put a new light on things. _It would hurt him if he knew ... it will hurt him when I do this,_ Logan half nodded to himself. _He's here with a plan of his own to shut down Manticore. But if Tony's involved, it means it'll be done legally, through the 'system.' No actual destruction ... and no more deaths. And that's how Eyes Only would want things done, isn't it?_

The thought hobbled Logan; his plans for the destruction of Manticore too long held, too critical in the survival of his waning sanity to put on hold to wait for Tony to accomplish it legally. Images played though Logan's mind, his cousin and Eyes Only as 'the protectors of all that was good and true' – _ah, Max's_ words, he realized then, remembering when he'd heard it from her, Max still radiant in the expensive red dress, the memory thrusting a painful stab to his heart, _said with that sweet sarcasm, that sparkle and..._

The pain and realization that she was gone – again, as awful as that first time – echoed in his empty Penthouse, and he again felt the drive to vaporize Manticore, to tear them from the planet.

_It will save them all the trouble of evidence collection, and investigation, and trial,_ Logan finally told himself, shakily, the thought of Manticore's explosive, fiery end more powerful and insistent than any other he might have. _Eyes Only, Tony, NCIS and the FBI will be blameless; Manticore will be stopped. _

He blinked a little, again, the world seeming to shift again into better focus. _It's better for everyone this way ... and my last, final gift to Max..._

XXIX

Lydecker's experienced eyes surveyed the computer monitors and staffing lists for the night. He hadn't been in the inner loop for many months, but any military operation, especially one co-opted by a power-drunk, clueless geneticist and left in the hands of mid-level drones, relied on predictability and rigid adherence to schedule. The fact that she stupidly relied on the military guard assigned to this post rather than cultivating the X-5s to her side merely worked in their favor: the former command had left, no doubt begging a transfer from his non-military Director, and the remaining, green command had fallen back on standard, textbook practice.

_Just what they're taught in OCS, right out of the playbook,_ Lydecker sneered, both pleased at the ease they would have in this op, and livid that the project to which he'd given so much had come to this. Even _she_ should be able to see how insane this was, to leave a project like Manticore wide open for the taking and to lock up the very key its survival...

He saw that Syl and Krit were behaving as professionally as they knew how, given that their formal training had actually stopped before they'd gotten too far beyond the basics, and as professionally as they could, given where they were and what they were doing. Something Lydecker finally had come to concede was that you couldn't raise human children and not expect them to create a nurturing environment, somehow, even where there was none. He remembered the films he'd been shown, decades old even then, of the terrified baby monkey clinging to a wire frame from which it got its milk, the only 'mother' it knew. "Colonel Lydecker, if a monkey knows to create itself a mother to survive, what will these gifted children of yours have to do?" the psychiatrist had demanded. At the time, Lydecker had brushed him off cooly, saying "these kids are above all that."

Well, he'd been wrong on that one, hadn't he? They'd made themselves into a family, even, seeming to see him as much as a stern father as a drill sergeant. And after their escape ... _no, after Eva_, he corrected himself, they hated him as much as any of his friends had hated their fathers, back in their teen-aged angst-ridden years.

He brushed his thoughts aside as he methodically checked each cell, zooming in on some he didn't recognize, all in the hope that he'd find 452 – no, he'd come to think of her as Max, and 599 as Zack, in those last days; he owed them that, at least...

But ... he saw nothing. No unfamiliar X-5s, scattered as they were in cells among their lessers; no X-5s at all hidden in the basement with the earlier attempts, no evidence of any of the dozen escapees other than Brin, of course, successfully retrieved and 'redoctrinated...'

His brow cleared. _Brin._ If anyone would know what had happened here, inside, that night, _she_ would know. But her assigned cell stood empty now, too.

"Soldier!" he barked to the guard still standing at uncomfortable attention under Syl's watchful eye. "Where is X5-734?

"O ... on detail. With the Director, sir," the nervous corporal clarified.

_So ... not all the X-5s are in lock-down?_ His eyes narrowed, and another wave of that strange contradictory relief kicked in. _So apparently the Director isn't all that stupid, especially keeping an X-5 with her while everyone thinks she hasn't – maybe there's some hope that she hasn't completely destroyed the place, after all. But it's going to make this mission a bit harder to complete, if Krit and Syl are squeamish about taking out their "sister" at whatever level of force it requires. _

"Soldier, were you here when Mantocore came under attack several weeks ago?"

"No, sir. I was assigned here three weeks ago, sir."

"So you wouldn't know anything about the renegade X-5s being captured and brought back in...?"

Lydecker saw the man's eyes flicker with uncertainty, clearly not sure what he should know and what was safer not to know. "Ah... uh, nothing directly, sir."

He quailed under the glint of Lydecker's stare, struck speechless only until the Colonel growled, "You're not going to make me ask for what you know indirectly, are you, soldier, and how you know it?"

"No _sir!_" the man spat, immediately. Both Lydecker and the soldier noticed that Krit and Syl were suddenly watching him with intense interest. "When I, uh ... when I got here I was brought in from the facility's rear, something about a security problem in front. They never really told me what was going on here other than some special ops training, top secret, but ... that first day... when I came in, they brought me and a couple others in through the back corridor and just as we were passing some observation room the Director came out and just freaked out when she saw us, going crazy that we might see what was inside. All I saw then was what I thought was some robot or something, like a machine-man, you know, AI ... but later one of the guards who was leaving told me it was one of the escapees, and they'd harvested..."

At that point, Krit involuntarily sucked in his breath, painfully, angrily, but said nothing, working to hold onto his emotions.

"... h ... harvested his organs," the soldier looked nervously toward Krit, then at Syl, seeing that the color had drained from her face. Licking his lips, he was even more aware of Lydecker's death-stare, so continued, "his heart went to an X-5, and his..."

Syl gasped, getting it instantly. Lydecker wanted to make sure, but was just as certain. "Which X-5, soldier?"

The corporal realized he'd gone too far, and stammered, "I...I'm not sure, sir; I've never really seen any, face to face, only on the monitors, and then only..."

"Male or female, soldier?" Lydecker demanded. "Hair and skin color?"

"F...female. Brunette..."

"It's Max," Syl blurted, tears springing to her eyes. "It's Max!"

"_And_ Zack," Lydecker reminded her, evenly. "No assumptions, soldier, you got that?"

"Got it, sir," she whispered. If no one else caught it, at least she and Krit heard the change in Lydecker's voice in giving her an order as compared to how he'd spoken to the guard. It was slightly softer, more a stern reminder to protect her own battered hopes than a commander's directive. It was only one moment, but one that would be remembered long afterward, and shared with their siblings.

"Good." He turned back to the guard. "Any idea where this 'robot' of yours is, soldier?"

"No sir – I assume the same place..."

"And the Director?"

"No sir, but ... I assume she's at home."

"You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?" Lydecker rolled his eyes, expecting nothing.

"Yes, sir. Here. On the grounds." When even Lydecker looked a little surprised at that, the kid went on, " the old superintendent's house. It still looks run down on the outside, with the windows blacked out so it wouldn't look occupied to any kind of surveillance. But she's been staying there since the last attack," he explained, "safer not to leave the base."

Lydecker nodded, then added, "and what about this brunette female?"

"Yes, sir" the guard finally brightened, able to be of some help, and pointed to a monitor. "She's right there."

All eyes immediately swung hopefully to the monitor screen in the cell he'd indicated, only to see a still picture of a barren cell. "Son, there's no one in that cell," Lydecker glowered.

"No, sir; she is – see, on the bunk? That's 452 – asleep, on her bunk."

Lydecker saw both of his "kids" look immediately at him for direction, champing at the bit, ready to go. _Like they'd been when the exercises were still just games to them_, he remembered, _even though now the stakes are very different..._

"Syl – take this soldier and get Max, if it's her. After that, have this man show you where he saw Zack. No matter what, you stay here until you find Zack, or find out what happened to him, clear?"

Yes, sir," she nearly danced with the order, grabbing the soldier unceremoniously by the arm. "What do we need to open the cell?"

"Just the one," Lydecker interrupted.

She glanced quickly at Lydecker before adding a nod to the soldier, "yeah, just that one cell."

"This..." the soldier made a tentative slide to the right, indicating, "this electric key, it disrupts the signal to one door at a time."

"Grab it; let's go..." Syl was back to dragging him along.

"And soldier?" Lydecker couldn't resist; he saw Syl jerk to a frustrated stop. "You've seen the X-5s in action, at least on the monitors, in the training yard, right?" At the man's affirmation, he added, "you've seen what they can do?" At another affirmative, Lydecker offered, "then I wouldn't even think about trying to do anything but what Syl there wants you to do. Not only is she X-5 ... but is likely to be one pissed off X-5 with what Manticore has done here. I'd suggest you follow every order, suggestion or whim very carefully, you got that?"

"Yes, _sir_!" The man had paled and had barely gotten his response out before Syl had him moving again, this time with him nearly matching her speed. Lydecker turned calmly back to Krit, his calm, gravelly voice determined. "Keep an eye on things here. See what the FBI has in mind. And you might keep an eye out for Cale's cousin – he's not just here to observe."

As Lydecker turned to leave, Krit spoke up, even a decade later marveling that he had the nerve to question his 'commander,' but not trusting the colonel for a moment. "You're going somewhere?"

To his credit, Lydecker stopped before responding – but he didn't turn back to Krit to face him. "I'm going to find the Director before the FBI does."

**XXX**

For the third time that night, X5-734 got up from the uncomfortable chair, posted at the front of the house , and paced through the large, empty rooms downstairs, listening for anything unusual and knowing all was as it should be, including the sounds of the Director, deeply asleep.

She stretched and forced her eyes open, fishing out another of the caffeine pills she'd lifted from the Director's stash, fearful of asking even for coffee or showing any evidence that she was anything but fully alert. She'd caught herself nearly nodding off again and again wished that her own DNA allowed her to go as long as some of the others could without sleep. All she could manage was a day or two under combat conditions, but without the adrenaline of a mission in play, she was no better at staying awake than the regular soldiers they brought in and out of the facility – but it was something she kept from the Director, who knew that her DNA mix _should_ have provided many days' alertness between sleep cycles. If Dr. Renfro learned that she failed on that count, what else might she subject to testing, to see if she otherwise failed to measure up to the promise of her genes?

That night at her post, as she often did since 452 and 599 had been captured, she found herself brooding, the long evenings alone letting her thoughts tread into dangerous territory. She knew full well that she'd been away from Manticore for a long time, then brought home and reprogrammed; they allowed her some memories of her decade outside. It had been a filthy, hard life; she was often ill and hungry, on the run, always hiding her true nature. Back at Manticore, she'd found a clean, healthy environment where she wanted for nothing, was fed well, and was rising to the top here, as personal guard to the Director both in her home at night and when she traveled off base. Faced with those options, 734 wondered why in the world she hadn't come back much sooner.

It was that thought – that niggling little thought that led to her wondering if maybe, she _hadn't_ come back on her own, as she remembered – the niggling little voice that she was able to almost ignore completely until 599 and 452 were brought back. They fought against 'captivity,' as Max had called it, with all they knew how. 599 had taken the coward's way out and killed himself; Max was prevented from doing the same, but it had taken many long weeks to break her. The Director had not yet let 734 see her sister but often repeated her promise that it would come, she just needed to be patient. And so she waited...

But that insistent little thought about her own delay in returning was sparked by the ferocity with which Zack and Max had fought it. She remembered vaguely a sensation of wanting to resist Manticore as well, and wondered why it wasn't as strong for her as it was for her siblings.

...or was it? She'd stayed away for ten years. She'd been reprogrammed. Maybe... maybe...

She dropped her speculation with a mental snap, knowing such thoughts were dangerous. _So were these long hours with only your thoughts, Brin,_ she mused...

Then suddenly realized she'd called herself that _name_, the name 452 – Max – had given her...

Again, she shook it off. _Maybe with sleep,_ she promised herself...

And then she heard it, a sound, outside – a scraping, metallic sound, at the back. Someone was actually trying to break in? She moved silently though the darkened house out to the back door off the largely-unused kitchen, and on to the large, old-fashioned enclosed porch, seeing the slight beam of a flashlight out in the garage and shed, where the Director's car was kept. On silent tread she was immediately at its door, the lock clearly having been forced open, and into its confines, where she saw a large form moving as if to hide.

The next moment she was behind him, pulling his arm behind his back, followed by the moment after that when she found herself spun, her own arm now pinned, her opponent nearly her match.

But her training took over and despite the greater strength and power of the man in her grasp, it was only a matter of three or four other moves before she had him pinned, up against the corner, and she shifted to look at her intruder...

And blinked to see the soft, cowed expression of the dog-faced 'nomlie she'd only heard of before ... rumored alternately to be dead, in hiding, or on the run with Sandeman... the first of them all. No bar code, no number, it was said ... she wondered if it were true...

She managed to gather her wits. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Joshua hungry. Sometimes, Joshua find food here..." he said in a soft, innocent, crooning voice.

"Well, there's nothing here." Weighing her next action only a moment and deciding that if he'd been here all this time as just a ghostly rumor, he was either not a threat, or known to those in command ... or both. She decided this need not be on her report. "Just go ... leave," she dismissed him, starting to turn to go. The creature actually began to howl a little, just like the dog he resembled. "Are you crazy?" 734 turned back sharply and demanded. "If you wake the Director, she'll have you killed and will throw me in the can for a week..."

"Joshua _hungry_," he insisted, not altogether untruthfully, as he listened all the while for the telltale sound that his partners in crime were safely inside the old house. "Just want some food." It came to him then – a soft, even snick of the door – and even sniffed toward the woman with him for effect. "You have food...?" he added, hopefully, trying to avoid grinning at his success.

"No!" 734 said in exasperation, but finally relented, feeling a bit sorry for the man – another one of them, another of her extended 'family,' in a way, just like her – and knew that feeding him might be the fastest way to get rid of him. "Look – maybe there's something inside. Wait here," she commanded, and got only five steps before she saw that he trailed behind. "I said..."

"Joshua afraid you won't bring food," he offered, meek but insistent. "Joshua come with you..."

"You're not coming inside," she whispered. "No way..."

At that moment, another sound caught Joshua's ear, and he grinned widely to hear it, looking back at the X-5 before him. Knowing that even if she sounded an alarm now, it was too late for the woman inside, and too far for anyone else to hear and assist. "Then you not going in, too," he beamed, pinning her arms as quickly as any X-5 would have and this time, not succumbing to her efforts to get free as he had before. "You and Joshua just wait here. Macks and Tony gonna see the Director..."

_**To be continued...**_


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: All your reviews & comments are so appreciated! Thanks for hanging in with this story; all reviews always welcome!

**Designation? What Designation?**

**XXXI.**

Tony felt Max's eyes on him as he silently and quickly breached the simple, old fashioned lock at the front door. _Wonder if she's thinking she could do it more quickly or efficiently?_ he mused to himself, as he felt the mechanism fall open under his pick. Tony had admitted to Max that the FBI now had the evidence to prove that Renfro had gone beyond her commission to turn Manticore into a renegade operation, for a project of her own. While he'd made clear to Max that they were going in to detain the Director for questioning, if Renfro balked, he could arrest her. Agent Gitry had taken the precaution of arranging a field-only assignment with FBI for DiNozzo, so his authority went past mere detention – just in case.

At the moment, though, Tony was less worried about how they took Renfro in as he was keeping her alive. No matter what Max might be to Logan, Tony had to face facts: she was an X-5 who had been recaptured and held prisoner by the woman they were about to confront. Tony didn't even try to imagine what all would be needed to keep an X-5 some place she didn't want to be for six weeks, and didn't want to imagine what Max wanted to do to the woman in charge. He didn't really believe that Max would promise restraint then tear into the Director, but he didn't want to find himself explaining to the powers that be – in two agencies, no less – that he trusted Max simply because his cousin was in love with her...

They slipped inside the house, soundlessly, and Max immediately paused, listening. In only a moment she nodded and pointed upstairs, and Tony, pulling his service weapon, followed her up the stairway, nearly as quietly as she. Tony followed Max as far as the doorway she identified as the right one, then touched her arm, lightly. She stopped, looked at him, and, without any resistance, stepped back at his nod. With that, Tony slipped sideways in the hall, Max behind him. He slowly turned the doorknob...

The form in the bed was sleeping the sleep of the confident careless. With a quick look around the darkened room, hearing and seeing nothing more, Tony slid his weapon back into its holster and he glanced back at Max with another nod. As she watched, Dinozzo crossed the room to the bedside and, without any wasted movement, leaned over to clap one hand over the Director's mouth, gripping her shoulder firmly with his other. "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Director – " as she gasped, struggling automatically to sit up, he urged, "take it easy. We're closing up your shop and ... hey!" He shifted with her as the Director twisted and tried to bite him. He deftly changed his hold to restrain her again, more forcefully. "Been at this too long to get bitten, lady. Just settle down or I'll place you under arrest for resisting a federal officer..."

"There's no such charge..." Renfro spat around his hand.

"Oh, now, you don't really want to get into a debate with me about that. I probably have more experience in that department than you have..."

"And you don't want to piss him off, because he might let me take over for him ... and you _really_ don't want _that_..." Max stepped out of the shadows and glowered at the Director, menacingly. "All he knows is that we have a history. He has no idea just how smart he was to tell me hands off ... but you and I know just how much pay back I owe you..."

With that, Renfro became deathly still in DiNozzo's grip...

**XXXII.**

"You can't let Max get to Renfro," Brin struggled against Joshua's strong hands. "She has it in for Max anyway, and she'll never let Max get away with breaking into her house..."

"Renfro not in charge now," Joshua tried. "Not anymore. Max and Tony and the others 'closing up shop,'" he explained patiently.

Brin shook her head stubbornly, clearly worried about her sister. "Look, you don't understand; Manticore isn't just this facility," she explained, figuring the 'nomlie had no real clue about the workings of the program. "There are committees and funding authorities and program directors, and..."

"And government agents _here_. To 'close up shop,'" Joshua explained again, more clearly now. He observed the X-5 closely as they spoke, his curiosity piqued – most X-5s he'd seen were drilled on the mission as being the most important thing, but this one was more worried about another X-5 than the Director she was to protect. She had been gone for many years, as had the other eleven who escaped when she did. Maybe even Psy-Ops couldn't erase that many years on the outside, Joshua thought – and remembered what he'd learned about her return. "Max's friend Tony come with many others; they lock down everyone ... every one but Max, Joshua and ...?" He looked to her kindly, and Brin understood what he asked.

"X-734," she spat, still angry to have been caught, angrier that she had been so derailed on her protective assignment.

"Max, Joshua and ...?" The big man tried again, a surprising gentleness in his insistence.

She shifted; she sighed. "Brin," she relented, to his immediate satisfaction.

"Brin," he grinned back, then sobered slightly. "Max see you inside house and say you and she sisters before, and Joshua should be careful, be sure you okay but be sure you don't get away to 'make trouble.'" He even looked sympathetic. "Max want you to be her sister again."

Brin stared at the shaggy face for another moment before dropping her eyes, the thought disturbingly moving. So maybe it was true, the niggling feeling she'd had since 452 and 599 had been returned to Manticore, that sense that they were more important in her life than mere unit-mates a decade ago. _Sisters? Is that what Max thought? Is that what we were to each other? Were we that to all of the others?_

She was quiet for the moment until she finally asked, trusting him to know in spite of herself, "they're really shutting down Manticore?" When Joshua nodded, she blinked, uncomprehendingly. "What will they do with us?" she wondered aloud.

"Brin look like all the people out there," he nodded, sagely, toward the perimeter fence. "Brin can be fine outside."

She suddenly realized what she'd said and felt a twinge of compassion thread through her chest. Looking at the canine face, his eyes holding an intelligent compassion of their own – for her, and her disorientation with the circumstances – she knew she couldn't even imagine what lay in store beyond Manticore for Joshua, or for the many 'nomlies whose features set them apart. For all Manticore had given her, they made it impossible for the others to live normally out in the world. "Sorry, Joshua," she said simply.

At that, Joshua smiled a little wider and loosened his grip on the X-5. "Joshua right ... Brin will be fine outside ..." he encouraged. "And Macks get her sister back again."

**XXXIII.**

With Max standing close to the bed, eyes still shooting daggers at the Director, Tony got up again and crossed to her dresser, pulling lower drawers open and shutting them until, with the third, Renfro finally complained, "what are you doing?"

"Trying to find you something to walk out of here in – here," he threw a pair of running shorts at her, and kept digging, "unless you'd rather walk outa here in that get-up," he nodded toward the bed, where the Director pulled the sheet closer around her skimpy, slinky corset and panties that somehow looked ridiculous on the director of a secret military facility – one sleeping alone. He found a tee shirt in the next drawer and threw it to her as well. "Max," he announced as he stood up, straightening again to face her, "I'm going to step out in the hall so she can change. Don't let her do anything other than switch her clothes. Director, I suggest that the best way to do that is go to the middle of the room and change right there, so Max here can see you're not trying to grab a weapon or notify someone – I won't be here to tell her how to handle things if you did." With that, Tony turned his back to the women and went out to the hall, all the while hoping that he wouldn't regret leaving the two alone...

At his exit, Renfro got out of her bed slowly, her eyes never leaving Max's. "452, now listen to me," she began warily, playing her only hope. "You know where your allegiance lies, if Manticore is threatened..."

"Oh, yes ma'am, I do..." Max answered evenly. "With whomever is making good on that threat." She felt a satisfaction that she would not show when Renfro's eyes rounded a little in fear. "So you'll understand that the best thing you can do right now is exactly whatever Special Agent DiNozzo asks you to do," she continued, "because I owe him one – I owe him several – and even though I would love to try out some of my very expensive Manticore training on you, it's not what he wants to have happen. You make _him_ happy," she finally glowered at the Director, "or I'll arrange a personal demonstration of just what an X-5 can do."

**XXXIV.**

Tony looked to the opening door, immediately expectant, and was more relieved than he cared to acknowledge to see that both women were intact, the Director in her tee shirt and shorts and looking more rattled than she had before. Max remained focused and neutral, but met his gaze, so whatever she'd said to Renfro, he decided, wasn't _too_ off the beam. "Let's go," he directed, nodding Max toward the stairs. "Just follow Max, Director; we'll have a car out front in a minu..."

He was cut off mid-word by Renfro's sudden, hard contact with the wall then the stair, a rush of air past him – and as he registered the gunshot, he also realized that Max was now standing at the foot of the stairway, holding a figure up against the wall. Turning to look back at the Director quickly, Tony saw that she looked shaken, but uninjured. He held out a hand to help her up and, as the Director came back to her feet, he saw Max threaten her captive, "you're not getting rid of her that easily – and if the time comes for that, _I_ want a piece of it, too..."

"Max, letting her live ... it's not in anyone's best interests, yours _or_ the others..." Lydecker hissed.

"Or yours?" Renfro challenged, glaring at the Colonel, a bit of her dignity returning. "It wouldn't go well for you if what I knew about _your_ activities got out, would it, Deck?"

"Do you _really_ want to go down that road, Director?" Lydecker retorted, "because I don't think..." His words were cut short as Max's forearm bounced him up against the wall again, her expression underscoring exactly what she thought of his opinion. "You're getting soft," Lydecker managed to taunt Max, in a whispered rasp. "You want her dead as much as I do, yet you let her live? That was a kill shot and if you hadn't dropped her..."

"I want you _both_ dead, alright?" Max got in his face, "you have both killed my family, and if it were up to me, I'd take you both out, here and now. But Tony reminded me that we don't know all of it, yet ... and it might just be worse for you to have to live through the investigation and prosecution they're willing to put you through," she breathed, her voice a deadly calm. "Right, Tony?"

"Right," DiNozzo managed. Even with his years of good cop-bad cop, even with his growing trust of Max, Tony'd had to kick himself to respond. _So it was true, after all, that some of the suspicious deaths around Manticore might have been more than accidents? Murders_, as his gut had told him ... _and Max might even have evidence of the kills?_ Tony reminded himself to focus, and take things one step at a time. "Colonel Lydecker, we're turning the Director over to FBI custody, alive and well, and if I need Max to neutralize you to do so I will have her take care of it – and I don't think she'd mind." He straightened, pushing Renfro a little to start her down the stairs again. "Let's go," he nodded to Max.

The foursome walked out the front door without further incident, and DiNozzo flipped open his phone. "Gitry – DiNozzo," he said almost immediately. He then listened for a moment as the agent chewed him a little for "wandering off" until he interrupted, "yeah, well, my mother always used to say that, too. But if you'll send over a couple of those transport cruisers your gang brought over ..."

"A couple?" Lydecker spat as Tony finished speaking. "DiNozzo, I helped you set this up..."

"That was before you attempted to murder Dr. Renfro, here. And right under the nose of a federal agent, too." Tony snapped his phone shut. "Was that sloppy, Colonel, or just arrogant?"

"Try stupid..." Max said tightly, her hand an iron vise on Lydecker's shoulder.

"That was my next guess," DiNozzo said, dryly. "Whichever it was ... you're bounced from this party for a while."

Max heard Lydecker wordlessly growl his frustration – and his agitation – and it dawned on her this was something she'd never seen before from Donald Lydecker: he clearly believed that Tony had the authority to make him pay for his actions. _Maybe, just maybe..._ she suddenly began to believe, _this could be the end of Manticore..._

And she wasn't the only one to approve. "Lydecker bounced from party," she heard a now-familiar voice, "so Joshua come to party now. Party better without Lydecker." The big man walked up, Brin coming along willingly, having surrendered in her knowledge that if she tried to get away from him, even her transgenic speed would be matched by his. "Hey little fellah," he smiled to Max, and offered to her, "Joshua think Brin might like to be your sister again."

Max looked to the other woman, seeing a mix of uncertainly, blotted memory ... and hope ... in her eyes. With an emotional smile toward Brin, she then looked over to Joshua and said, "thanks, big fellah."

They heard the sound of car engines moving through the tree-lined lane toward the house, and as the cruisers pulled up, DiNozzo walked Renfro toward one of the cruisers as Max pushed Lydecker to the other. "Take them to holding," he told the agent getting out of the passenger side of the car . "Tell your boss you'll have your report on each of them within six hours, to cover their detention." He looked across the cruiser's roof to the lithe figure standing by the second car, looking back at him. "But first – I need to take Max home..."

_Home...and Logan,_ she finally allowed herself to think, her eyes meeting Tony's, knowing he could see her thoughts. _Logan..._

"Macks?" Tony heard the distinctive twist the man put on her name and wondered if she heard it, too. Whatever else she heard, DiNozzo knew, Max wouldn't miss the sadness in his voice, as the transgenic spoke to her softly. He watched Max turn back to Joshua and take in his downcast expression. "Macks going home..." Joshua offered. It wasn't a question.

She nodded, and with the sadness she saw in return, Max heard herself say, "but home isn't far ... I'll be back, Joshua, I promise. Will you be here?"

He nodded. "'Here' is Joshua's home," he said simply. Neither transgenic noticed DiNozzo's frown at Joshua's words, his expression changing, as if working out a puzzle.

"I promise," she repeated, "I won't be far, and I won't be very long..."

"Joshua will be here."

"Hey Joshua," Tony said softly, his brow cleared again for the moment, "look, with the Director in custody, no one will be using the house," he gestured to the large, old fashioned residence, "... and I'm sure Brin can show you around, can't you, Brin?"

Joshua's eyes widened, clearly not expecting the offer, and he turned to Brin hopefully. As Max watched her sister, the other X-5 blinked uncomfortably but seemed to consider it for a moment before looking up to Tony and shrugging, "I can ..." She sounded a bit more convinced when she spoke again. "Sure."

Max beamed.

Tony looked at her and smiled. "You ready, Max?" At her nod, he tipped his head toward the sedan they'd taken to the Director's house, still parked amid the trees, nearby. "Let's get you home."

**XXXV.**

Logan heard a sound behind him, first barely registering it as just a settling of his building, a creak in the structure. But there was another small shift behind him and the hair on the back of his neck prickled...

He turned. He pushed back from the computer a few feet, listening, then turned, moving out into the hall to investigate...

And, there – in his entry – stood Max ...

His mouth went dry and he felt again the familiar pang of her loss, the pain that this dream, too, would end, as all of them did now, and she would again, too soon, be lost to him until the next time his delusions overtook him. His eyes stung with the familiar salt-bite of tears welling there, and once more, he was reminded how alone he was without her, now that she was gone to him. "Max," he whispered, hopelessly.

In his despair, he hadn't noticed yet. He failed to recognize how this time, the dream was different ... how she was thinner, stronger, somehow, how her hair was longer and board-straight, rich and shiny ... how she was clad, not in her familiar cat-suit or work clothes, but in grey-print fatigues and tee shirt...

...how she didn't call to him, as she usually did in his dreams, but looked uncertain, suddenly, glancing behind her in question...

...glancing to his cousin Tony...

DiNozzo saw the pained, defensive reaction on his cousin's face and knew that with whatever hell Logan had been through in the past ten weeks, some deep-seated, self-preservation mode must have kicked in, unable yet to believe the unbelievable. He was glad he'd warned Max that Logan had taken her loss so hard; she might better understand his reaction and trust it was anything but indifference at her appearance. "Cuz..." he began, gently. "Max is home..."

The expressive green eyes swung to his cousin, immediately defensive, resistive. "Not you, too!" Logan accused, his brimming, burning lids allowing one or two angry tears to fall. "It's another dream; she can't be..."

Her own eyes filling as she understood, Max looked back to the man she loved, another Manticore casualty, fighting the reality before his eyes. Swallowing hard, she walked over to him and took his hand in hers, their touch electric. Her own tears spilled over as she knelt before him. "Not a dream, Logan, not this time. It's me..."

In a wracking shudder, he sucked in air; he stared at her, mutely, for long, frozen moments. Only his eyes changed; Max saw the parade of emotions as they took her in, hungrily. A self-protective resistance played there first, then almost a fear, as if he believed he was finally succumbing to the madness... but then, slowly, little by little, the old Logan seemed to appear as his eyes suddenly lost their glaze and moved over her, emotionally. He registered her hair ... her form ... he licked his lips, not quite yet willing to completely believe ... but finally, he dared, in a whisper, "...Max?"

Max's worried, drawn expression quickly shifted into a wide, relieved smile as she nodded, tears spilling again, and, unable to speak, drew his hand, in hers, to her lips. Tony began to feel a feverish hope: whatever it was that Max saw, she believed Logan would be fine, he could see it – and at this point he suspected no one was in a better position to know...

Logan's own, battered countenance had begun to change, too, as he allowed his hand to shift in Max's and his long, sensitive fingers traced along her lips and cheek. Slowly, slowly, over long moments of staring at her, hungrily, his disbelief slowly gave way to honest, emerging hope...

As she watched Logan's hesitant smile begin, Max urged his growing trust. "I'm real, Logan."

He actually laughed, a rusty, coughing sound. "I can see that..." His hand shifted to stroke her hair, a breath's whisper of touch, as he explained, "in my dreams ... your hair is always curly."

She colored suddenly, self-conscious with her appearance. Ducking her head a little and unconsciously pulling back, she apologized, "I know, they haven't let me see a mirror in..."

"It's beautiful," he breathed reverently, interrupting her, looking at her again with eyes large enough to swallow her whole. "_You're_ beautiful. Max ... you're beautiful..." As reality continued to dawn on him, in ever-increasing waves of understanding, he said, more focused and intense, "Max... you're beautiful, and you're _here_, and I thought I'd never be able to tell you how much ..."

In another spate of the tears she never let fall during her captivity, Max surged forward into his arms, pulling him to her and hugging him close, breathing in deep the scents of his soap and wool sweater and _Logan_ that she'd longed for, so deeply, all those weeks. "I missed you more than anything or anyone else I've ever missed in my life," she urged, "and I was so afraid we'd never get to finish what we started..."

At that, Tony sagged in place as he felt the world start spinning again. He realized he'd been holding his breath, and drew a long, relieved lungful of air. His cousin would be okay – he'd just gotten a big dose of exactly what he needed to cure him...

DiNozzo stepped back a few paces and quietly slipped out the door. He had plenty to do; the teams could still use his help out at the site, and there'd be reports to write, plans to intrude upon as the FBI and the responsible oversight committees would have to address the mess made of that little secret project born a couple decades ago. For now – he'd leave his cousin and his beloved X-5 to themselves ... they had some catching up to do...

_...to be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: It's been great to see that people are still reading. Extra thanks for the reviews, "faves" and alerts you've sent. They help me keep going.

Brian2008 mentioned that the story reached a natural endpoint with the last chapter, and I agree – however, I wasn't ready to stop yet! This was originally conceived as the first episode to an AU S2. For the moment, then, this can be a "two-parter" start to AU S2, and one of these days I might even get around to re-labeling things. (And thanks for the idea, Brian!)

Please let me hear from you, out there. Every comment is welcome –

**Designation? What Designation?**

**XXXVI.**

Tony had returned to the old hospital's grounds to find the situation in much the same condition it had been when he left. The squad of Marine MPs were still standing by to assist if needed, and to take over as security for the place once the FBI, now methodically combing the facility, was done securing the place and gathering evidence. A brief check-in with Gitry found her busy directing the investigation, but at Tony's insistence that he have a couple minutes with her, she nodded and said "gimme ten."

He agreed wordlessly, knowing more than anyone else there what her role was at the moment, and all that she needed to coordinate to preserve everything they'd found on arrival. _This one, especially, needs credible evidence,_ DiNozzo thought, _because even the most cynical, jaded DA, even the most left-leaning judge or the most glassy-eyed conspiracy theory-spouting juror would have a hard time believing this one._ It was Gitry's job to ensure that evidence of Project Manicore's nearly thirty years of planning and development, of engineering – and of 'production' – was identified, cataloged, documented, and secured. She was hard at it at the moment, making sure files were sealed, computers impounded ...

Tony was still for only a moment, looking across the large table where Gitry stood, gesturing at a floorplan they'd prepared and noting which agents had secured each room, before he turned to the pair of X-5s who'd come in ahead of them all. He found that they'd been watching him, steadily, waiting for more. _Waiting for orders?_ Tony wondered vaguely, feeling another prod of guilt for not having pressed this years ago. _And what are we going to do with the most obvious, most chilling 'evidence' of all – the flesh and blood products of this place?_

Tony crossed the room to the alcove where the X-5s waited near the control panel, amid the bank of monitors. He'd almost forgotten that he had news they'd want to hear – and, he remembered, glancing across the monitors and the dozens and dozens of lives reflected in them that Manticore had created, each still locked away in the government's private zoo – that they might have information to assist in the grim task ahead.

"Hey," he managed a small nod to them. "Nothing unexpected on your end?"

Syl shook her head. "Like silk," she confirmed. "But now no one will tell us anything, and no one here knows enough to..."

"Max is alive," Tony interrupted gently, getting to the heart of it. "And she's fine. I found her downstairs – actually, she found me, and she's healthy and..."

Both X-5s responded immediately. "Where is she?" "Max is here?" "She's alright?" "Where did she go?"

Tony smiled apologetically, "look, she'll be back – she's insisted that she be involved in doing whatever's necessary to wrap all this up. But for now ... she went to see Logan." He saw the expressions on their faces shift into some understanding, even if disappointed or frustrated for the moment. He shrugged, admitting, "so I didn't exactly clear it with the FBI first. I think they have their hands full, even without me bugging them to let me take her back..."

Krit chuckled a little and shrugged, "yeah, we met Logan. Even when she was focused on the mission, Max had her eye out for him. And Logan – he was going crazy with worry for her, when we all came out here that night." He glanced over to Syl with a small grin, then back to Tony, "I guess we can wait a little while more to see Max."

Tony nodded, but sobered again and, with a subtle glance back to see the FBI agents otherwise occupied, moved closer to the monitors and nodded toward the rows and rows of small screens, each with its camera trained on a different cell, another transgenic. "Did you know about ... about all of these ..." _What?_ his mind quickly demanded of him. _You may be setting a precedent here – what do you call these Manticore creations? Not entirely human, maybe, but not less than human ... think of them in the same terms you think of Max – or these two..._ " ... these people they have locked away down here?"

They each looked uncomfortable. "In a way," Krit began.

"When we were still inside, as kids, we had heard and seen some ... some _beings, _who didn't really look like us, but were usually more human than not ..." Syl helped.

"'nomlies," Krit blurted, his face taking on a look of sudden, surprised understanding of the term they'd used without thought, so long ago. "We called them 'nomlies, probably because that's what we thought we heard the guards say," he explained to Tony quickly before turning to Syl to explain, "for '_anomalies,' _Syl..."

But in response Syl merely smiled sadly, with a nod. "Yeah, I figured that out a few years ago." At his look, she explained, "I ... thought about them, once in a while. I still have nightmares about the place, sometimes, and I guess I was just thinking about them ... and the name ... and it just hit me, sort of the same way it just did you."

"Are we to assume," Tony drew them both back to the present, "that they are ... earlier efforts to attain what they were able to achieve with you X-5s?"

Syl nodded. "I'm pretty sure they are."

"Don't you remember, Syl, some had their designations on their cells? X-2s, X-3s?"

Tony's eyes narrowed in question. "Designation?"

"Yeah," Krit almost looked embarrassed, as if admitting a character flaw of some sort, Tony noted curiously. "You ... you know about the bar codes?" At Tony's nod, Krit explained, "each of us has a unique identifier – series and number. Syl is X5-701; I'm X5- 471. Max is X5-452. Kind of like a lot number on a can of beans," he shrugged, his tone self-deprecating.

"Or – a vat of fine wine," Syl elbowed him with a smile, trying to diffuse some of the awkwardness before turning to Tony. "We saw them, occasionally, heard all kinds of crazy rumors – but given all the different mixes of DNA they put into us, to end up just as they wanted..." Syl looked at the monitors, across the rows of cells shown there, with some sympathy, "Manticore was nothing if not methodical, regimented – it probably took them quite a few tries to get the mix just so."

"...at least four series of tries," Krit mused.

"And Max said that there were more, after you." Tony noted the sudden interest in the two pair of eyes that turned back to him – but no real surprise. "After she recovered from her injuries they put her back in training, pretty well let her have the run of the place within the perimeter. She overheard a fair amount and saw even more. She said there were at least two more series, X6 and X7. From what she said, those kids appeared to be about the same age – maybe eight to eleven years old – so they were developing them at the same time. I was afraid we might find even more – like a nursery of infants..."

"Or a ward of pregnant surrogates?" Syl tried.

Tony nodded. "But at least here, so far, the only living quarters seem to be the cells, and nothing looks like a nursery so far."

"Why would they just stop making kids eight years ago?" Krit asked.

Tony snorted, "if they were still government, any number of reasons – funding yanked, change in oversight direction, sudden moral conscience in those approving this project..."

But Syl's eyes narrowed. "'If' they were still government? Do you think some private group took them over?"

Tony's eyebrows lifted as he considered it, "could be – or another government," he frowned, "if the people in charge sold out." He glanced back at Gitry and the handful of FBI agents speaking with her. "Still more questions than answers, so far."

"Yeah, and I got one," Krit mused. "What happened to Lydecker?"

"Oh, yeah. About that," Tony pulled out the Colonel's keys. "I suppose he's gonna need someone to take his SUV back." He dropped the keys in the first hand out, Syl's. "He's going to be detained, at least for a while."

"Lydecker? Because of all this?"

"Well, his involvement here won't be much help, but at the moment, the fact that he tried to kill Manticore's director about an hour ago is his more immediate problem." Tony tried not to react to the fact that neither X-5 seemed too surprised at that either, managing to ask calmly, "he does that a lot?"

"What, try to kill people? Or actually kill them?" Krit muttered.

"We saw him kill our sister , Eva– and Max saw him overseeing the autopsy of our brother Jack maybe ten minutes after he was taken from our barracks," Syl explained. "What are the odds, if we know of two deaths within a couple months of each other, that long ago, that there aren't a few more?"

Tony pursed his lips, then nodded, toward the other agents. "You guys feel like giving them a statement in the next day or so?"

Krit glanced at Syl, who blinked a little, seeming almost torn, but she then nodded. "Yeah," she sighed. "It looks like this is all coming down." She turned to her brother and said, irony heavy in her voice, "Krit, whether we like it or not, we're material evidence."

"Material witnesses," Tony corrected, gently.

"Both, more likely." Krit spoke up, a weary sound of inevitability lacing his words. "Just – tell us we don't have to stay in the evidence locker, okay, Tony?" Krit's wry, jaded smirk told Tony that the pair had realized, even more than he'd expected, just how much would be asked of them – and of Max – as this investigation and prosecution developed.

"Unless it's got cable. And Thai food," Syl finally grinned. "Krit, you know what this means?"

Tony turned back to Krit to see the X-5's expression, making it clear that while he understood what likely lay ahead, he just wasn't sure what part of it all had his sister smiling so broadly. As both men looked at her, waiting, Syl's stance relaxed and, smiling even wider, she moved to throw her arms around her brother in a big, relieved hug. "We won, Krit – we outlasted them. Manticore finally blinked – and we won."

**XXXVII.**

...she was in his arms.

She was in his arms.

_She was in his arms..._

Eyes closing, Logan wouldn't allow himself to think for those first, stunning moments, to wonder or question or do anything but to hold Max close, to let her presence sink in ... and remember to keep breathing. All those weeks, he began to realize, his demented belief that she was still alive wasn't so demented after all. "Thank God, Max ..." he breathed, "it's really you..."

Max felt Logan's relief telegraph through his strong arms around her. Suddenly finding herself safe in the arms of the one person to whom she gave her most complete trust, the one place she had wanted to be, above all else, for so long, the exhaustion of so many weeks on guard and under Renfro's grinding, daily interrogations took her over, and Max felt the tight, focused rein she had kept on her thoughts and feelings falter. All the postponed emotions and memories flooded her, and she barely had the strength to hold back the tears that threatened to come. She was in Logan's arms, back with the only person she had ever felt could protect and comfort her, and irrationally, she wanted him to hold her like this forever and make all the torture and madness of her life disappear. She was back _home_, in Logan's arms, and Manticore was falling. Maybe it wasn't so irrational after all...

_Not irrational,_ her inner voice conceded, _but impossible._ She burrowed deeper into his arms and tried to avoid the next thought, the one she couldn't run from for long – not with his heart beating in her chest. _Impossible now – for Zack._ The thought brought a bitter wave of grief into what should have been her happiest moments...

Logan reveled in the feel of her, of her warm form in his arms, in his lap. It was a slimmer, stronger and more wiry, Max who had returned, ... but _Max_, all of her. As she shifted nearer, seeking his solace, his arms drew closer around her, leaving him euphoric with her return – until, even in his elation, Logan felt the small tremors passing though her. Gently, in concern, he pulled back to look at her. He found that tears now streaked her face, not something Max often let him see, and that pain filled her eyes as she tipped her face away. "Max..." he began, not sure what the tears meant, remembering that he could have no idea the hell she'd been though in the past weeks. Echoing words he'd said to her so long ago, he offered, softly, "what can I do?"

"This," she said without hesitation. "Just this, like this."

_All those years, and she'd been pulled back into the hell she'd worked so hard to avoid, after all,_ he felt his chest tighten. He drew her close again. Maybe it was too early to press things; maybe she wouldn't want the reminder of what she'd just left behind. But he had to say something, at least, so she'd know he had tried to free her – and that he hadn't given up on her. "I'm so sorry, Max," he began. "No matter what anyone said, I couldn't believe that you were really gone. I kept trying to find you, to find Manticore, and where they moved their facility. I was tracking them as fast as I could, every way I knew how, but without either you or Bling here, no one else knew enough about Manticore to help me move any faster..."

This time she was the one who drew back to look at him, seeing the guilt in his eyes that he hadn't rescued her, his belief apparent that he'd failed her. "You found me," she assured him, focusing on him and his words to help move past the memories haunting her. "Tony said you suspected the hospital. You were right – we were there. You'd have been there sooner if Tony hadn't jumped into things."

Again he raised a gentle hand to her face, tenderly cradling her jaw in his palm and brushing his thumb along her lips. After a moment, seeing that Max relaxed a bit further into his touch, Logan asked quietly, "... and ... the gunshot wound, to your chest?" He dared to shift back and move his fingertips to her chest, lightly tracing along her sternum, unwittingly tracing her still-accusative scar. "You died in my arms, Max. It ... just healed?"

Her eyes welled up again and she suddenly felt the need for Logan's assurance that somehow Zack's death wasn't her fault, that absolution she had unconsciously craved since she had first regained consciousness, those longs months ago. Shaking her head, she shifted in his lap to face him, knees straddling his thighs. Tears flowed readily down her cheeks now as she knelt before him, pulling her tee shirt off over her head and tossing it to the side, revealing her running bra – and a twelve inch scar. Without meeting his eyes she reached again for his hand, drawing it close, not seeing his eyes round in pain for her at the sight of the long, recent incision running down her breastbone. She brought his fingertips to the still-healing wound and pulled them down to trace its path, her breath coming in barely controlled emotion now. "I did die... but they ... transplanted..." She couldn't finish the thought.

Logan felt his own eyes well at the memory of that night, of her death, of the pain she was clearly suffering now as she relived the horror of returning to Manticore. "Your heart?" he asked, trying to help.

She shook her head, a sob breaking free now, and pain more keen that Logan had ever seen in her before filled her eyes. "Not _my_ heart ... _Zack's_..." the breath she drew was raw, painful. "They said he killed himself just so they would have an X-5 heart to use..."

Her eyes begged for forgiveness, and he realized how devastating a loss this would be to Max, to know her own brother sacrificed his own life for hers. Reaching for her, feeling her crumple into his arms, he murmured her name as she finally, freely, wept for the brother she'd lost – and for what Manticore had done to what little had survived of him, ever since...

**XXXVIII.**

Barely nine a.m., and it felt more like midnight. That – and the bareness of his pantry – led Logan to offer Max some hot chocolate after she'd spent her tears for her brother. She hadn't let her sobs last more than a moment, but letting him see them even for that moment told Logan volumes about the depth of both Max's pain, and her trust in him. She'd let Logan continue to hold her close after she'd quieted, not hiding her emotions from him, even blatantly seeking his comfort. The revelation, and Max's remaining in his arms even after her tears had dried, made Logan feel hopeful and strong for their future: no matter what she'd been though, Max was back and wanted his comfort, showing him her deepest emotions despite her training that it was a 'weakness.' He could do nothing less than be worthy of that trust, to focus and shake off the effects of his near-madness at her loss, and show himself worthy of her.

They had stayed there in the penthouse entry, Max curled into Logan's lap right where they'd first reunited, for a good twenty minutes before Max spoke again, voicing her apologies to Logan – for her emotions, for ruining her homecoming. As he murmured his quiet protests that apologies were unnecessary, he brushed her brow with his lips, as soothingly as he knew how, offering cocoa and even his shower, for old time's sake. With a tinge of regret she passed on the shower, for the moment, but went in to rinse off her face as Logan went to make her the promised hot chocolate.

As Max moved through the familiar rooms of the penthouse she she'd looked around, noting the subtle, sad evidence of Logan's last months: the windows were slightly hazy, the furniture and furnishings carried a fine layer of dust. Evidence of Logan's most recent scant meals – a cup of soup, a piece of toast – were at his computer or on the kitchen work bench, showing he barely bothered, using only a small mug or a napkin as a plate. Just as it appeared with his long-untrimmed chin stubble and hair, it seemed as if Logan lost interest in everything beyond his mission, caring only about finding Manticore and her. _Another Manticore casualty,_ she thought yet again. _At least, now, he seems better, like he's back, too. No assumptions, though, Max,_ she cautioned herself, _he was hurting badly enough, once, to end it all. Tony said this all made him pretty crazy. No assumptions even though he seems like he's back on solid ground..._

She moved into the large guest bath and, with a bit of mental preparation, Max peered into the mirror. The image she saw made her wince briefly. She was more drawn and gaunt than she liked, and whether from her recent death, or surgery, or the daily Manticore grind, her eyes were even darker with the circles under her eyes and the new slimness of her face. Her severely straight hair didn't help the image, but at least it carried a bit of shine to it, not entirely unhealthy. She tugged a little at her tee shirt, straightening it after having just pulled it back on, and leaned to splash cold, bracing water on her face. Suddenly aware that there was no towel at the sink-side bar as usual, Max opened the cabinet below where she knew she might find one. Grabbing it to bury her face in the soft, rich cotton weave, she breathed deep to find the familiar, comforting Logan scent a bit more elusive than before, as if it had faded on the shelf. _No one has been in this bathroom since I was here,_ she realized, _so no need for new towels for a while._ Max had another memory of Logan, so ready to end his life before, and wondered if he had been that uninterested in his own survival yet again. _Because of me?_ she wondered, not comfortable with the thought. _Maybe just because it was one more straw of many recent straws..._

Max shook off the brooding, still feeling the competing emotions working at her now that she was on safe territory and able to let her guard down – the pain of losing Zack along with Tinga, the toll her absence seemed to have taken on Logan. She looked back in the mirror to see that the cold water and the brisk scrubbing she'd given her face with the towel had brought a rosy glow to her cheeks, and she looked a bit better for it. _With the bad, remember the good, Max, _she counseled herself. _Manticore beaten, Brin coming around, Lydecker locked up ... Logan here, wanting you, welcoming you back..._

With a small smile, she folded the towel just so and hung it carefully in its rightful place on the towel bar. _Better,_ she decided. And with her hopes daring to peek out from all the pain of the past months, Max went back toward the kitchen to get a long-missed mug of Hot Chocolate ala Cale...

**To be continued...**


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone sticking with this – I still have a bit more ahead, kicking off this AU S2. The comments and reviews are a shot in the arm to keep things going. I'd love to hear what works & what doesn't for you ...

**Designation? What Designation?**

**XXXIX.**

Logan couldn't help it; his eyes had followed Max, hungrily watching her all the while as she crawled out of his lap, leaned in for another hopeful kiss, and left his hall to go back to the guest bathroom, never leaving her until she disappeared around the corner from view.

Max was back, here, in his Penthouse. All at once, it was as if she'd never left, and it as if she'd been gone a lifetime; he couldn't decide if the past ten weeks or the past ten minutes had been more surreal. Given what she must have been through, back in Manticore's grip, he had forced himself to be as much his old self as he could be for her. He didn't want her to know how completely he'd let her loss hobble him.

As soon as she'd gone down the hall, he moved into his computer room, closing the tell-tale files and tucking away all evidence of his own plans for taking down Manticore – and himself as he did. He remembered how upset she'd been when he had tried to end it all before, and, although he still stubbornly told himself that this was entirely different, he just didn't want his plans aired between them so soon in her homecoming. She might understand, given his reasons, but it shouldn't be something else for her to worry about now...

He paused only another moment in front of the computer, looking down again at Max's jacket as it lay across his lap, a visual reminder that she was back, and he let his fingers brush lightly across the coarse black cotton canvas. As he heard the very faint splashing of water in his guest bathroom sink, that sound, coupled with the jacket he'd retrieved from where Max had dropped it in the hall – another piece of Max that was new and not a part of his memory – served as a promise that her appearance wasn't merely another one of his dehydrated hallucinations.

He swallowed, hard, scratchy against his now-perpetually dry throat, and blinked away new tears that suddenly wanted to come. _Max was alive_...

He pivoted smartly to hurry out toward the kitchen, holding his breath that the milk he'd bought the other day, as he stubbornly did a few times each week in the hope it might again be needed, was still good. _First things first_, he vowed. _First, something warm and comforting, something that might represent to Max that this is home, that she __**is**__ home. After that..._

He reached the refrigerator, grabbed for the milk to give it a sniff, and relaxed into a pleased, even hopeful, smile.

_After that,_ he realized, _nothing else matters. Max is alive, Max is safe, Max is home ... beyond that, everything else is cake... _

In a quick moment he put the milk on to warm and pulled out the cocoa, long unused during her absence, from the back of his pantry. First, he got out only one mug, for Max, but then added a second, to be social. That done, he hesitated in his movements, positioning himself so that he could hear the water running or her movement though the hall, just to reassure himself of her presence, still almost afraid to believe it wasn't yet another of his vivid, all consuming dreams. He looked once more at the jacket draped across his thighs, clearly Manticore-issue as were the tee shirt and camo pants she wore. He again let its unfamiliarity remind him that this wasn't all just another figment of his imagination...

Logan took another look into his cupboard, then his refrigerator, to see if there was anything at all he could offer with the hot chocolate, but there was nothing that even he could pass off as an interesting nibble along with the cocoa. _Why didn't I get more when I got the ingredients for dinner last night?_ he wondered vaguely. He hadn't been much of a host to Tony, and now had nothing to offer Max...

Head in the refrigerator, he'd not heard her approach until she was near the door, and he looked up to see a more settled Max. "Hey," she offered quietly, her lips curving up a little as he caught her eye.

"Hey." He resisted asking her if she felt better; he knew that the pain of losing her brother wasn't anything easily washed off with a splash of water on her face. "Your hot chocolate will be ready in just a minute. I'm afraid I don't have anything to go with it."

Her lips curled up higher, feeling a tug of affection and compassion at his reaction to having her home – his disbelief had given way to his desire to comfort her, to do for _her_, despite his own gaunt, haunted look, his reddened, tired eyes ... she reached out for his hand again and said gently, "I don't need anything else."

...and for a moment, Logan dared to allow himself to believe that she meant _him_, and not just the cocoa...

Lost in her presence, Logan simply gazed back at her for another long moment, stroking the back of her hand in his with his thumb, until he managed to blink away the spell and apologize sheepishly, "I'd better get the milk..."

Max nodded and slipped her hand from his, watching as he hesitated just another beat, his eyes taking her in, before he turned to the stove and removed the small saucepan from the burner. As he poured the steaming milk into the familiar, hand-thrown mugs lined up on the counter, she noticed he had her jacket across his lap, and though she remembered pulling it off as she walked through the garage, absentmindedly shaking off the light rain that she saw still clung to it, she realized she must have just dropped it in the hall. "Oh, my jacket – sorry; I wasn't thinking and probably left water on your floor..."

He looked at her in puzzlement for the first moment, not getting it, but then glanced back to the jacket and realized what she thought. "Oh, no, Max; it wasn't wet, I just..." He reddened momentarily, not able to bring himself to admit his reasons for keeping it close. "I ... I was going to hang it up and just didn't get to it before you came out here."

He wondered if she saw through him, the way her eyes appraised him, the way she seemed to look behind his words, but he saw her relax a little more into the old Max – or, into the 'old Max' with the very new responses to him. Her eyes softened with what was undeniably tenderness as she nodded, accepting his excuses, accepting _him_, and reached to take it, lifting it away from him with a slow-motion grace. "We can just hang it on a chair, here..." She barely turned away, opening her jacket to drape it across the back of one of the bar stools, before turning back to look again at the man whose face she'd held in her heart, though the worst times. "I missed you," she whispered.

He blinked rapidly, his reddened eyes seeming to mist briefly before he smiled for her and reached out for her again, managing only a soft "me, too."

At that, Max's defenses crumpled with the touch of his hand, the way he looked at her, his gaunt face and reddened eyes so overjoyed with her there – and she pressed into his arms again, so like she had when she found him so close to ending it all. Shifting to look deeply into his eyes, touching his face, she urged the truth from him, unable to ignore any longer how fragile he appeared. "Logan, please tell me – are you sure you're alright?"

He was surprised into non-movement for only a moment, her bursting in to his lap and her suddenly voiced worry, but with the feel of her arms around him, her concern for him, Logan relaxed into her embrace. First pulling back to return her gaze, Logan nodded, and leaned in to gently kiss her once again. Breaking the kiss and pulling her close, he then moved to burrow his face into her shiny hair and return her fierce hug. His own emotions still so close to the surface, he spoke gently, working to reassure the woman in his arms. "I am _now_," he breathed...

**XXXX.**

When Gitry was able to get her troops organized for their methodical indexing of the facility and called DiNozzo over, he got right to the point, hoping that she already saw things as he did, given what they'd uncovered. "As much as we want to be just our agencies' hands and feet out in the field and let the big dogs make all the decisions, you and I both know the entire federal government is gonna have a huge handful here – the breaking story that people's tax dollars were funding a science experiment right out of a bad 1920's movie ... the number of departments involved and how many more _should_ have caught this, but didn't... Add that to the sheer number of all these people we have in here who exactly don't look like the rest of the population, but more like what people have grown up seeing in X-Men comics. You know all of this is going to be out of our hands soon enough – but it just seems that they deserve a safe place to live, at least until someone in charge figures out how to break it to the world that there are some new human beings out there who don't exactly look like they stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting."

"Human? You sure about that?"

Tony was surprised to hear his fears personified so soon by a woman he would have thought was more open-minded than that. "You want to be the one to decide who is and isn't a human being, with the same rights you and I have?" he asked, probably more sharply than he'd intended. At her grimace, her recognition of his point, he couldn't help muttering, "didn't think so." He drew a deep breath and shook off his reaction, his point made, just not exactly how he'd have hoped. "This has been a deep black project for, what, twenty some years? I suspect if someone can convince the powers that be to keep this all quiet a little longer, they can come up with the best way of breaking the news to the public – it might let these poor bastards ease their way out into daylight with a little dignity."

Gitry looked downright embarrassed for her xenophobic slip. "Look, DiNozzo, I didn't mean..."

"I know," he sighed, the reality of what the transgenics would face seeming for the moment to be inevitable. "But if _you_ can voice that so readily – what are you gonna do with all those hate groups and conspiracy theory whack jobs you guys have to deal with every other day of the week? Seems to me if Uncle Sam thought it was such a good idea to play God and make himself some flesh and blood soldiers, then he ought to be the one to be sure they are taken care of."

Clearly that point hadn't yet dawned on the FBI agent, who finally seemed to be catching onto the enormity of the project, and what lay ahead for all of them – perpetrators _and_ victims. She laughed briefly, without humor. "Not exactly like springing a group of kidnaped victims you can just round up and send home, is it?"

"Not even close," Tony agreed, looking off in the distance for a moment, considering their options, a thought developing. "Look, if you can stall your report another few hours, I have a connection back home who might come up with some suggestions as to how it might be done, to ease these folks into the mainstream. Maybe if I get her involved first, she or her boss could be a part of the solution."

"Who's that?"

"An Assistant Secretary for HEW. This might be right up her alley."

Gitry's eyebrows went up, impressed. "You have some juice, then, back in DC?"

He finally broke his brooding to look back at the FBI agent, the usual DiNozzo grin surfacing for the moment. "Nah. But I happen to be shacking up with someone who does. I just take out her trash and make her pancakes on Saturday mornings." He started thinking exactly how helpful that connection might be. "And I can make some damn good pancakes. Maybe by now I've earned a favor or two."

**XXXXI.**

They'd untangled yet again, more settled this time, and, with growing comfort in their reunion, they went into the living room to sit, sipping their hot cocoa, quietly enjoying each other's presence now without speaking, sitting together on the couch. But as her hot chocolate started to cool, Max felt the presence of her newly found 'family' and her promises to them pulling at her, even from the comfort of Logan's arms. Already regretting the need to interrupt their reunion, Max finally brought up what she hoped he would understand. "Logan – I have to go back out there. I promised I'd be back out, today – in a little while. There's so much going on out there..." she apologized.

"Can I help?" he asked without hesitation.

If she had any doubt she was back with the one and only Logan Cale, it was gone at that moment. "I can't think of anyone else who'd be better at it," she said honestly – and was touched to see that his eyes softened slightly, revealing his relief that she wanted him along. "I'm glad you want to come ..." she paused. "I hoped you'd want to."

He nodded, wordlessly, as he slid his hand out, palm up, toward hers; as she took it, he wasn't sure if he'd have been able to speak then if he tried. _Max..._ he thought yet again, another wave of amazement washing over him. They sat in silence for another moment before Logan managed to clear his throat. "Yeah," he nodded, then asked, " ... you said Tony went back out there, to help with the FBI's processing everything?"

She nodded. "I'm glad he's out there too, Logan. He – I dunno, he's just..." She paused, looking for a way to express it. "He's way past the fact that we're all Frankenstein's next generation, y'know? He doesn't look at us any differently than he does anyone else." Suddenly remembering that Logan wasn't quite up to speed on everything yet, she blinked a little, drew a breath and added, "and out there ... that's saying an awful lot." She saw his steady, even gaze meet hers, and knew that he'd handle this as well as he had the rest of her strange, science fiction history. "They kept going, after the X-5 series. They have X-6s out there, X-7s, X-8s... and they have X-2s and X-4s..." she paused for a moment, a frown crossing her brow. "The only group they don't have is X-3, and ... I get the feeling something went really wrong with them, like maybe they all..." Her voice trailed off and Logan could feel the deep concern Max felt for the faceless, nameless ones missing without explanation, as if a part of her family was cruelly eradicated ... she looked back to him and shook her head. "I don't know if all of them are out there, or if there are others someplace else ... but they've been prisoners all this time, Logan, some of them probably close to thirty years now." She stared into her mug, then shrugged with some frustration, "they're not going to be able to just walk out on the street out there. Many of them – a _lot_ of them – show their DNA. Maybe I go into heat, but at least I don't have fur and retractable claws..."

Logan's surprise was shown in his look of concern; his voice remained soft. "And ... they do?"

"Some of them. Or – green skin. Or yellow eyes with vertical irises..." She sighed. "How are _they_ supposed to go get a job or find an apartment?"

"Hmm," Logan nodded, his thoughts now settling from his elated shock in having Max home to the sobering vastness of Manticore's crimes. "With all of the suspicion surrounding the Pulse and the resulting bigotry – what happened back then could look tame in comparison with how they might be treated." He thought for another moment, his brow drawing as his thoughts played over all that could mean.

Max watched him considering her words and once again appreciated Logan's generous spirit, his ready willingness to accept the hard-to-reconcile. She smiled a small, rueful smirk for him. "Wouldn't be a problem if everyone out there could be like you," she offered.

He looked back to her to see the affection in her eyes as she met his. He snorted softly in self-conscious humor to offer, "someone has to make up for the bad guys." His expression lit up for a moment, and he mused, "what about some jobs at Cale Industries? Or even Jam Pony?"

It was her turn to snort in response. "I have to see if _I_ still have a job there first."

"Yeah, but maybe with a little convincing, even Normal could see the advantages of having a fleet of revved up riders ... a twenty-four hour service ... riders who could deliver twice their weight in packages in ten minutes..."

She saw what he was trying to do and appreciated him even more for it. "Logan Cale, always the one holding onto hope..." she grinned.

"Me?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "I thought you saw me as grim and determined – 'blah blah woof woof,' remember?"

"Exactly," she agreed. "Only a die-hard romantic, who thinks that there's always a chance out there, would work so hard to keep the faith for the downtrodden." At the light that sparkled in his eyes with her words, she added, "and only someone with that kind of hope would think someone shot through the chest would come back to tell him about it."

"Maybe it's just faith in you," he said without hesitation, his thumb playing over her knuckles as her hand still lay in his. "Faith again proven to be justified."

She again felt a blush cross her cheeks, marveling how he could make her feel, marveling at how of felt to be back _here_, on his couch, drinking his hot chocolate, listening to his voice ... she would barely believe it was all true, the past few months, until she registered the black, white and grey fatigues she wore, taunting her peripheral vision. "Faith showing up without bothering to shrug off Manticore," she tried a small joke, looking for a way to lighten a little of the intensity she felt as one emotion after another worked to turn her into mush. "Since I got there, this is all they had for us to wear. Somehow I think I would feel better even dressing in some of Kendra's crazy clothes, with pink stuff and feathers all over, just to get Manticore off my back, _literally_..."

Logan suddenly brightened in the knowledge that he _did_ have something else to offer Max. "Maybe not feathers," he put down his mug and smoothly transferred back to his chair, "but I think I can help you out there..."

He spun back to the guest room and, curious now, Max rose to follow, coming through the door to see him pulling open one of the deep drawers in the corner dresser. Lifting them reverently, Logan pulled out a pair of her black riding pants and a soft red sweater that she had completely forgotten she'd left there not long before she'd been captured. He turned to her, offering them quietly. "From when you came here to change before heading out to meet up with Tinga," he explained, knowing it wasn't the best of her memories. "I just hadn't gotten a chance to get them back to you."

Her smile was a sad mix of remembrance and appreciation as she took the familiar clothes. "Better times now, with them," she vowed after a moment, feeling another connection to this place and away from Manticore at the touch. "Let me change – then we'll be ready to go?" she asked.

"Think I'll change, too," he agreed, wryly, and moved out toward his bedroom. "Maybe slip into something a little more portable?"

Max grinned at his retreating back. _So he still has the damn thing working,_ she marveled to herself, suddenly remembering...

**XXXXII.**

Logan walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living room, where Max turned to watch him, a soft, appreciative look lighting her face. She came toward him more slowly than usual, moving as if she relished every step, smiling with a new comfort as she walked up to him to peer up into his face. Stopping right in front of him, she suddenly smiled even wider, seeming to settle in even more happily in the moment as she raised her right hand to her left and rubbed her palm over the soft, red weave of her pullover. "Who'da thought it would be so nice to put on an old red sweater?"

Her pleasure in such a small but emblematic moment was infectious. "You've always looked good in red," he smiled down to her.

"Who'da thought you'd be so tall?" she repeated in soft parody of her words to him, lifetimes ago.

"Like it?" he tried.

She just pushed her way into his chest, seeking his arms, feeling them go around her as she nuzzled his broad, strong chest. "Umm hmm," she murmured. "Logan – what you said, back then – 'we have all the time in the world'...?"

He heard the small question, the lingering uncertainty, in her voice, and he wondered what Manticore could have done to her that she could still be insecure, even in the face of his devotion. "Glad I was right," he assured her. Pulling back slightly to nuzzle her hairline, knowing they really would have time, this time, he finally asked, "you ready?"

"Whenever you are," she nodded. "Logan – I'm glad you're coming, too."

He nodded, not even processing yet his pleasure that she thought of him as someone who could help set things right, but just that she wanted him to tag along – he let himself play with the idea maybe she didn't want to let him out of her sight yet, either. "Bessie's even gassed up," he offered.

_Ironic, that when I got the gas I thought it would be a one-way trip, and that I'd be going in with explosives to blow up the place,_ Logan mused, as he followed Max out into the hall and to the elevator._ Instead, I'm going in with Max, to see what can be done about mopping up Manticore's mess. From what she says, it's going to be a long, hard road for a lot of them._

_...so even if everyone might understand the reason – Cale, you have to stop this dazed and goofy grinning..._

He stepped into the elevator behind Max, the soft whir of the exoskeleton echoing a bit louder in the enclosed space, then glanced down to her again to see her smiling at him, hope in her eyes. _Almost as stunned and happy as __**you**__ feel? _He again found himself buoyed with enough hope to think such a thing._ Are you sure this isn't another one of those dreams?_ He suddenly grinned widely. "I think I like your hair like this – a lot," he added, another wave of reality going to his head.

Max blushed only a little in response, clearly pleased at his spontaneous compliment, but she covered quickly with a cocked hip and instant attitude. "What was wrong with it before?" she demanded, her grin impossible to hide.

"Not a thing," he reached over to thread his fingers loosely through hers, a daring, almost public display of affection – returned by Max as she curled her hand around his, stoking his feeling of hope all the more. "But ... guys have a thing for long hair," he explained, his mood growing more euphoric the longer he was with her, making him ever more willing to believe he really was awake.

"A thing," she repeated, her smile dazzling him now. _Only Logan could turn a result of Manticore's regimented, no frills life into such a compliment,_ she reflected, _and could so readily welcome me back, fatigues and all..._ The elevator opened on the ground floor and they walked out into Fogel Towers' familiar, underground parking garage. Max took a deep breath of its familiar odors – _home_, she reminded herself yet again – and as if no time at all had passed, followed Logan to his usual parking stall to find his loyal, stalwart Aztek waiting as usual. _Home..._

It occurred to Logan as he got in the car that Max would have ridden over with Tony, bringing no transportation with her. And even though he knew he might lose her company for a bit if he showed her, he couldn't resist offering her a little something he knew would please her. He started up the car and pulled out of his parking space, turning away from the exit for the moment and reacting to the quick look of question Max gave him as he did. "_She's_ gassed up, too," he said softly, and nodded over to a small, gated area against the far wall. He watched as he saw Max light up like a Christmas tree.

"You _did_ have her!" she exclaimed, grabbing the door handle as if wanting to go give her motorcycle the same hug she'd given him. "Logan, thank you..."

"If you'd rather ride her out, I can follow you." He tried not to sound too wistful.

She turned back to the green eyes and patient smile that had kept her alive in the past dark weeks, and shook her head. "Nah – she'll be here later," Max said softly. "I'd kinda like to ride with you, if you're gonna come anyway."

Max was touched that Logan looked so damn happy at her reply. He nodded, shifted into drive and headed back around toward the exit. As he came to the street, though, he paused again and sobered a little. "You know, Max ... maybe, before we head out there ... you should stop to see Original Cindy. Just long enough to tell her you're alright, and that you'll be back to see her soon."

"I want to," Max nodded, "but I promised I'd got out and help; some of them haven't really ever been around too many non-Manticore types, and things there are still so unsettled..."

But although Logan nodded, he offered softly, "I know, Max – but I also know how I'd feel if you were back, and didn't tell me as soon as you got here. Just – show her you're alright, say hello, and that you'll be back. Cindy will understand..."

Max had wanted to do just that, wanted right that minute to spend hours with Cindy, hours with Logan ... and hours helping unravel the nightmare of problems Manticore left just outside Seattle's doorstep. But Logan was right; his suggestion meant that it was okay that she make the brief stop, and that Cindy _would_ understand. Max managed to hide her thoughts – and her curiosity – with a tough-guy, quizzical look. "Since when did you and Cindy get to be tight?" she joked.

But, surprising her, Logan looked away briefly, actually coloring a little. "She's been by a couple times each week, calls too, since you've been gone," he confessed, admitting more than he wanted to, but knew he owed it to Cindy to let Max know all she'd done. "You never told me she's such a worrier," he offered with a self-conscious shrug.

And Max got it, suddenly: she could fully imagine how Cindy would mother Logan, watching out for him, even if just because what he'd meant to her best friend, apparently now dead, how Cindy would fuss over him in a flurry of concern that would help her deal with her own loss ... Max nodded, her eyes softening again for everything everyone had gone through in this round of Manticore-induced pain. "Only for those she cares about..."

With her words, Logan's eyes lifted back to meet hers wordlessly, waiting ... and she shrugged again, offering a small smile.

"So let's go find Original Cindy..."

_To be continued..._


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: With continued thanks if you're still with the story – I know this is a weird take on S2 and others are doing better with it, but I guess the sap in me can't avoid mush for too long. This installment is shorter than originally planned; I had intended to take this chapter further, but this portion got a bit longer than planned and became a good stopping point, even if short. Maybe not as long wait 'til the next part?

**Designation? What Designation?**

**XXXXIII**

"I'm just a couple blocks away from Jam Pony, and... I have something for you. To say thanks."

They were back in the heart of Seattle, downtown and only five blocks from Jam Pony where Logan had pulled to the curb to make his call. Max felt her pulse quicken in the sensory overload that spelled Seattle – and home – for her. She'd learned in her brief return to Manticore that _this_ was something Psy-Ops hadn't perfected yet, the smells and the taste of the air, the feeling of the city grime against her skin – or the feeling of Logan's arms around her, back at his place, the ever-familiar scent of him, urging her comfort – and she smiled to herself to know that, this time, she really _was_ back...

"For me? Now that's real nice, Boo, but Original Cindy don't need you comin' over to see me when you have your cousin to entertain..." Max could hear the voice of her best friend through Logan's phone, and her smile lifted even higher to realize it wouldn't be long now before she saw Cindy, too. The voice, through the phone, was all worldly and wise in that care-taking tone Cindy held for her sometimes, or for Herbal or even the hapless Sketchy. _Logan's a part of Cindy's circle now, too?_ Max suddenly felt a strange sense of voyeurism, as if she really _was_ a ghost, and had come back to see how her friends were coping without her...

"Well, actually, he got involved in helping the local FBI with a big bust and is tied up today," Logan was explaining, "but getting him here was your doing, Cindy, and I owe you. Maybe just a minute?" Logan glanced at Max again, now self-consciously. He knew it wouldn't take long for Max to find out how things had been while she was gone, how much he'd let unravel as he mourned her. As he saw a question, then understanding, spark in her eyes as they met his, he wondered if she'd be disappointed in him when she heard it all. But Max's decision at that moment to reach out and thread her fingers through his gave him hope that she just might forgive him, even so...

But he shook off his musings as he heard Cindy respond. "Well if you say so, Boo, then Original Cindy is all about your surprise. I'm on my way back in from a run. Easier to pull in at the park?"

"Yeah," Logan agreed, as Max nodded approvingly. Both were aware that, at the one downtown park the city left for its citizens' use, there were still some trees and shrubs that walled off the grassy interior from the streets, and they'd be less likely to be seen by anyone before Max was ready to explain where she'd been so many weeks – even by her co-workers coming and going so close to home base. "How about at the entrance on Third?"

"Gimme ten minutes, Boo, I'm there."

Logan shut his phone, shoved it back in his pocket, and pulled the Aztek back into traffic, feeling Max's eyes on him. He started to tell her they'd be there in three minutes, to distract her from asking about events behind the phone call and his newly-found connection with her best friend, but immediately recognized how pointless it would be – given her time as a messenger, Max knew the city better than he did – and given that Max wouldn't be distracted from something, if she wanted to pursue it. Certainly _that_ was something that wouldn't ever change...

"You and Cindy ..." Max began, the sad tone of her voice surprising him as it carried an understanding of his insistence that Cindy – their _mutual_ friend now – be told right away that she was alive. _Had she figured out so quickly what happened, how losing Max made us close, in her loss?_ "While I was gone..."

Logan glanced at her again, not proud of how weak he'd been at losing her. "Cindy ..." he began, knowing how much he owed Max's friend, "was there ... when we thought you'd died. She was worried that I ..." He hated the admission he owed them both. "That I wasn't taking your death very well. Because of it, she called a lot, or stopped by ... sometimes she sent some of the other messengers over if they had a run out my way." He half laughed, sadly, as he turned into the park, focusing on the feel of the wheel in his hand and the road ahead, trying not to think of the sad, emotional look he'd seen in Max's eyes for him. "She would even pretend that she needed a meal, so I'd cook something – she'd never eat very much, but would make me eat, and make sure I saved the leftovers so they'd be handy for me to eat the next day or two..."

"Logan..." Max began, hurting for what he'd been through.

"Not much of a soldier, am I?" He shut off the engine, and the quiet around them made his admission that much harder, his words ringing all too clearly in the silence. Still – she would know soon enough; she deserved to know it all. And even if he couldn't look at her when he offered his confession, at least he would be the one to tell her. "Max ... I did a pretty crappy job of sucking it up, and ... and I ..." He paused, then tried again, "the thought that you were gone – that you were dead – I didn't handle it very well. I don't know what Cindy will tell you, or Sketchy or Herbal or even Tony, but if they tell you I was pretty well ready for th..."

He was interrupted by her finger on his lips, and he looked up to see Max's brown eyes, tears rimming her lashes, as she leaned close. "Logan ... I'm so sorry – for all of it..." He drew a breath to remind her it was not her doing, but she left her finger on his lips. "And I wasn't much of a soldier either, when they made me think that you had died, too. I didn't care about anything for a while, about getting out, or even getting pay back." She paused a moment, remembering the hell of that time, those weeks when she was weak, even as Zack's heart worked to heal her again, before she acknowledged to herself that she'd managed overcome it all to be here with him, again. "But almost as hard to face as your being gone was the idea that we'd finally come so close to figuring _us_ out – and never getting that chance to work at it." She searched his face for a way to help him be less hard on himself. "Besides," she whispered, with a tiny smile, "it's kinda ... I don't know, kinda nice, in a weird way, that someone cared if I was gone. I never thought it would matter much to anyone, what happened to me."

"More than you know," Logan murmured, still meeting her eyes now, owing her this. "Max – if ever I had wished for a second chance..."

Tears suddenly threatening to fall again on her wildly swinging emotions, wanting him to understand that anything he might have done because of losing her was forgiven, no matter what, Max smiled her happiness at the thought that they had just that, a second chance. Without another word, she leaned in to take a long, sweet kiss. Finally breaking the kiss after many moments, she raised an eyebrow to encourage, "even with it all – kinda nice how it's all worked out, isn't it?" She was rewarded with his relaxing, hopeful smile, and she brushed his cheek with her fingertips ...

... and behind him noticed the familiar figure of her best friend on her bicycle as she came along a path at the far end of the park...

"...but we have company..." she tipped her chin toward the path, and she gave him another quick peck on the lips, then turned to open her door. "I'll make sure she's alone, and that no one else is around, before I say anything. Old habit," she explained with an apologetic shrug, "at least 'til Tony and the rest of them can determine if any of the sick bastards got away before the net was cast." She slipped out the door and suddenly, he was alone again...

... but for only the remaining few moments before Original Cindy wheeled up to his window.

**XXXXIV**

Max circled around to come from behind her to watch, as Original Cindy pulled up by Logan. She felt another wave of emotion to see her best friend again, especially as it became more and more clear that Cindy had been looking out for Logan as he grieved for her. She tried to put aside for the moment another surge of anger at Manticore for the many ways they destroyed so many lives as she edged sideways to get a better look. She could see her friend assessing Logan, that look of concern for an ailing friend...

"Hey, Boo. You' lookin' a lot better since I saw you last. You havin' a good visit with your cousin?"

Logan nodded, and his smile widened in appreciation. "I am, Cindy – more than I can say. And I owe you, really big time, for that..."

Max frowned a little, remembering Logan's words on the phone and reminding herself to ask Logan about it later. _Why would Cindy call Tony? Was she __**that**__ worried about him, that she called his cousin all the way out in D.C.? Had things sounded so bad it brought Tony to Seattle, out here from the other side of the country, just because of it? Was it only her call that led to his visit and, if so – had it all been Original Cindy who, even without knowing it, got the ball rolling for Tony and the FBI to close down Manticore?_ Max swallowed her questions and most of the emotions she was fighting at the moment to make another visual sweep around the park and the area nearby before turning back to watch her friend speaking with Logan.

"Well, you just needed to get a little time with yo' favorite cousin, you two bein' so close. Times like this, you need family."

"But friends are just as important," Logan let his eyes flicker up to see Max off a few yards, and saw Max nod an all clear. He looked back to Cindy, and his face suddenly relaxed into a look of pure happiness.

Cindy saw the look and felt another flash of worry for him, wondering suddenly where Tony really was and if he knew his cousin was there in the park, his emotions all haywire again. Before she could ask, Logan was looking over her shoulder and calling out, "isn't that right, Max?"

Cindy winced at the evidence of the man's emotional health taking another nosedive. "Logan, sugah, she's gone..." Cindy tried, but his eyes had lifted into the distance behind her, and this time – _this_ time – they were focused on _something_, not wild and desperate as she'd seen them before at his worst. She found her own emotions rise involuntarily for that first instant, in spite of herself, before she reminded herself that this might be a new extreme, with Logan's recent admission that he thought Max might still be alive. She opened her mouth to speak, turning unconsciously to follow his gaze as she did. "You know she – "

And Cindy was struck speechless at the sight of a stronger, slimmer, straight-haired Max walking toward her, arms opening in her need...

Cindy's bike crashed to the pavement, untended, as the woman turned in tearful joy to her friend. "Max!" she gasped, throwing her arms around her. "Max, damn it, _Max;_ gurl, it _is_ you..." Cindy was laughing and crying and even bouncing a little, overwhelmed not only in her joy to see Max, but in a heady relief that Logan was just fine after all. "If you brought me all this way to say I tol' you so, then I'm never so happy to say it as now," Cindy barely turned from Max as she threw her words to Logan, then turned back fully to her lost-lost friend. "Oh, sugah, I have _never_ been so happy to see anyone in my life, not even close. So those rat bastards had you all this time?" At Max's nod, her own eyes spilling over, Cindy shook her head and appraised her, "shit, you lookin' like you deserve some a' Logan's food and TLC to get past those army rations they probably been givin' you, and one of Original Cindy's very best, deep intensive manicures, but _dayam_, it's really you, my Boo?"

Max finally laughed, new tears spilling, as she managed to speak with emotion making her voice quaver, "wanna check the bar code?"

"No. I want another hug," Cindy demanded, pulling her close, then easing back to look at her. "So you escaped from them?"

"Even better. Tony came out with reinforcements from the FBI and they busted the place wide open," Max told her. Cindy's eyes grew large, but before she could speak, Logan interrupted.

"Thanks to you, Cindy. You got him out here and looking into things, and he got the FBI organized."

"Dayam," Original Cindy repeated, and laughed a little. "Out at the old Veteran's Hospital, like you thought?"

This time Max looked surprised, and she didn't notice the glance Logan gave her, again looking self-conscious for his obsession. He spoke to them both when he replied. "Yeah, but he didn't know that I'd looked into it; he just contacted the local FBI office, and it turns out they'd been planning something for a while now, too. They had the place made a while ago."

"And took their sweet time about movin' on it? _There's_ a surprise." Original Cindy rolled her eyes, but wouldn't be shaken from her delight to have her friend back, and she looked back at Max. "So when we gonna sit down and catch up, Boo? An' are you comin' home, or..." She glanced meaningfully back at Logan, smirking a little, "have you both had enough reality to understand that you need to just get it _done?_"

Logan reddened a little with his grin, but Max just laughed, relaxing into the welcoming reminder of her friend's directness. "I've only been back about ninety minutes, so we haven't exactly discussed details yet. Can I let you know when I know?" She saw understanding – and appreciation – dawn in Original Cindy, and knew it was the time to add, "but right now – we have to go back out there..."

"Back to Manticore?" Cindy worried suddenly, glancing to Logan for support. "Why you wanna do that, Max? Just bad times for you out there," she added, "and if Tony and the others are handling it..."

"They are – but there are lots more of them like me out there. And I promised I'd help. A lot of them _never_ escaped, and have never even been outside of whatever lock-up they had in place. They have no idea of what's out here in the real world."

"But you're comin' back?" Cindy pressed, her face still concerned and serious. Again, Max felt herself relax in her own relief, to be surrounded by so much of her familiar, missed life back here.

"Of course," she promised.

"Come for dinner, Cindy," Logan interrupted, and both women looked over to him, Max favoring him with an appreciative smile. "It may be some ridiculous hour, and not too elaborate, and we'll have to call you later to know when – but you two can catch up and I'll cook for you. We can even pick you up when we come back, if it's that late. Deal?"

Cindy's grin crept back across her face. "Deal." She looked back at Max, and admitted, softly, "after all this time – it's just hard to let you get away again so soon."

"I'm back – I promise. Even if I go back, thanks to Tony, I can leave again whenever I want. And I _want_ to come back and pick up my life again here, as whack as it was sometimes." Having first come back to Logan, and now meeting up again with Original Cindy, Max felt herself start to trust that her long nightmare really _was_ coming to an end. "This is my _home_, Boo!" Max beamed for Cindy, "and I might even see if Normal will take me back, here in a little while. I just gotta see what's up out there and make sure they're taking care of all the kids Manticore left behind."

"He'll take you back – unless he wants a walk-out by everyone else," Cindy growled, but then pulled Max in for a final hug. "You take care of yo' peeps out there and come back to tell Original Cindy all about it tonight, you hear?" She let her hug loosen as Max pulled back and nodded, then turned to get into the car.

As she did, Original Cindy came back to pick up her bike and walk closer to the window, laying a gentle hand on Logan's arm. She smiled softly and spoke low, her words warm and quiet for him, "Boo, you were as crazy as they come sometimes there, but you were _right_, too, and nobody's happier for you than Original Cindy is – maybe not even you," she grinned. "You got your happily ever after – don't make me come and kick yo' ass to take advantage of it."

Logan's soft laugh sounded more normal to Original Cindy than she'd heard since Max had left. "Wouldn't dream of it." He looked her, the unspoken understanding between them filling volumes. "Thanks, Cindy..."

They hugged through the open window, briefly, and Original Cindy pulled back to say to him, softly, "take care of my Boo. And you, too," she tipped her head a little to look at Max, now watching from the passenger seat. "Take care o' my Boo." She stepped back a step as Logan started the car up again.

"See you tonight – " Max promised. She watched as they pulled out of the park, Cindy's hand raised to her first in a good-bye, then pumped in the air as a victory fist. Max grinned again, an emotional little laugh escaping.

Logan glanced at her and grinned. "Guess we could think up a shopping list on the way out," he baited her. "So what would you like for dinner?"

_...to be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: Nothing much to say other than, if you're reading this (I guess you must be, huh?), thanks for sticking with this attempt to rewrite S2. Reviews matter – would love to hear whatever you think.

**Designation? What Designation?**

**XLV**

Logan had suggested one more brief stop before they left town. Given their newly hatched dinner plans, he said he needed to get some things that he knew would keep in the car while they were out at the facility, but could work for dinner if they got back so late that nothing would be open. As they made the drive to the market at the edge of Sector 9, they spoke a little, but not much beyond dinner. Max could see that, no matter how buoying her meeting with Original Cindy had been, Logan was still stinging a little from his admission about how he'd fallen apart at losing her. Hoping to ease back into that connection they'd begun so many months ago, Max reached over to trace his fingers on the car's hand control, delicately, then ran her hand along his arm, brushing her fingertips along his sleeve. He glanced over to her and seeing her steady gaze into his, couldn't help but smile softly in return as he pulled into the market's parking lot.

Logan got out, opened the back of the Aztek, and grabbed a good sized box from the back of the Aztek he often used for his groceries when shopping from his chair. "I probably ought to get some other things too," he murmured apologetically to Max as she came around from the other side. "Suddenly I have all this company, and the cupboard is bare."

At that, Max looked at him in curious concern, the way he said it as telling as what he said. In the months she'd known him, despite the ragged economy, she had never known him to be so low on staples that he couldn't throw together a several course dinner for eight – or fill a quick bag of provisions for someone on the run. But now, not only did he need to stop for something to make dinner, but needed to stock his pantry? Yet another sign of all he'd let go, since she'd been gone? Not sure how to respond, she merely smiled a little and nodded.

"And if there's anything you need, we can get it too," he added, a sound of self-conscious awkwardness again in his voice. He looked at her again with a renewed flicker of surprise, blinking a little, as if again suddenly remembering that she really was back.

"Okay," she murmured. "But Logan – " His shifting reactions might have worried her more if she didn't understand from fighting her own emotional roller coaster, feeling her own need to assure herself he was real and still wanted her there, no matter her capture, wondering if her time back in Manticore would ever give him second thoughts about having a bio-engineered 'fighting machine' under his roof. Uncertain what he needed to hear from her to make things better for his own battles, she stepped closer and shrugged, "there's nothing in there that I need as much as what's out _here_ – as long as you want it, too..."

Logan lifted his hand to her cheek, as if reassuring himself just one more time she was real, that it really was _Max_. With that touch, when she didn't disappear but merely smiled again, he suddenly dared press his luck and, grinning too, he leaned in to steal just one kiss...

She didn't flinch or run or protest.

_She kissed back._

Logan dropped the box he'd been holding with his other hand and brought his arm around her, forgetting where they were and anything other than the feel of her and the pain of those months without her. Max seemed to do the same, kissing him with an intensity that made him think that she might have missed him almost as much as he had her...

**XLVI**

Krit moved over to where Syl now stood, again silently looking at all the monitors, each screen representing another survivor of Manticore's increasingly macabre-appearing project. "Hey, sis," he nudged her gently. "What's going on in your head? You're too quiet."

"Says you," she forced a wan smile. "It's been ten years, Krit. Other than the past handful of days, what makes you think you know what's 'too quiet' for me now?"

He rolled his eyes. "First, that past handful of days. But more like that first handful of years." His look softened into one of concern, and he nodded toward the monitors. "No Zack?"

She frowned, shaking her head. "No, but I didn't make it into Psy-Ops – or what I have to assume is Psy-Ops. It was at the end of a hall, with a couple Marines posted there. No sign of anyone anyplace else, though, outside of the cells here."

"I'm kinda surprised you didn't just go on past them."

She smirked at him. "I have more self-control than you do, baby brother. Not worth losing our visiting privileges here on an unknown – at least not yet. Besides, I think Tony would tell us if he finds out anything, so I wanted to check with him first." She paused only briefly before, for the first time since the mission started, letting some discouragement show. "What'd you think, Krit? From everything we know, they have the technology. But a direct gunshot to the head? Would it really be _Zack_ who survived, or some ... I don't know, some re-tooled version of him?"

Krit shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Or ... maybe ... if they really were just 'harvesting...'"

Syl stared at the floor, her thoughts undecipherable. "We can't assume anything," she said more for herself than her brother. "Especially with these bastards and what they've seemed willing to do to all of us – and all of them," she gestured to the captives on the small screens. She let her eyes linger on them for another moment then drew a breath. "At least we'll either find him or the records of what happened. From what the Colonel said, they've been meticulous about keeping records on all this – as if it never dawned on them that records could be used against them."

"So none of them were history students?" Krit mused. "You'd think they'd have caught on what a bad idea that was for the other twists conducting human experimentation, over the years."

"Well, other than taking out the Marine guard – what do we do about looking for Zack in the meantime?"

"Someone's bound to know around here. Even if they're not officially in on the loop, remember how it used to be? We ended up hearing a lot more than Lydecker gave us credit for – we were just too young and uninitiated to understand what it meant," Syl reminded him.

"What about some of the X-5s in the cells?" Krit asked, low, as he glanced around. "Think they'd give it up for a brother X-5?"

"Only one way to find out," Syl agreed, also looking at the FBI agents, putting their heads together to try to sort out what was rapidly becoming more and more obvious – they'd stumbled onto a much vaster and disturbing PR nightmare for the federal government than they'd imagined when the takedown was planned. With another glance and a few hidden hand-signals to her brother, Syl faded back into the shadows, Krit following, before any of the FBI agents in charge of the op would tell them not to interfere

**XLVII**

Logan instinctively circled his arm around Max as she pressed in, a sigh escaping as his eyes closed and he brushed his lips along her brow, relaxing out of his recurring awkwardness of before. He stood unmoving, holding her close, reverently, for long moments before he spoke. "Max ..." He wavered another moment before again admitting his failings. "I keep looking at you and wondering why I haven't woken up yet." He pulled back just enough to look at her, raising a hand to trace her cheek. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I feel the same way, and I didn't have you die in my arms. It's okay, Logan." She wavered a moment, then admitted, "all that time, I kept hearing your voice in my head, that night you said ..." She hesitated, wondering if it was the time or the place to remind him of where they had been headed, just hours before – and after– Zack interrupted them. "...you said that we had all the time in the world..."

His eyes glittered in memory, and even though the misting she saw there reminded her once more of how hard it had been for him, she felt that spark of hope warm a little more. "I remember," he said. "Even though I was afraid something would go wrong – such a fast plan, such a powerful organization – I meant it."

"I know." Her smile was soft, "and even if it took a little while – you were right."

Again, his smile lifted in stages, as if believing his own eyes – and trusting his battered sanity – was still a struggle, but Max allowed her hope to grow even more by the way his arms relaxed around her even more, how his eyes became more and more his own, less troubled and wild. He pulled her close again, his arms tender around her. His lips gently traced her brow...

A sudden wild honking and juvenile, male whoops interrupted the moment.

"C'mon, sweetcheeks, get those clothes off if yer gonna be givin' a show!"

"How 'bout you let us join in?"

Both Max and Logan were pulled back to reality by the sound of the squealing tires and they looked up to see a car full of kids, all male, all looking to be at that age when it was almost a physical impossibility to get their minds on anything but sex. As they drove past, still hooting, they were grinning with what was clearly lascivious envy. Max and Logan watched them drive past, looked at each other ...

... and laughed for the first time in months, brought back to the present, but at least entertainingly so.

"They probably figure I must be one lucky SOB to find someone like you, like _this_, in a grocery store parking lot," Logan chuckled.

"Maybe it's the other way around and those hoots were for you," Max grinned. "Boys might be lookin' for other boys." As she spoke, her grin softened into a look of such affection for him that Logan nearly wondered again if it was the dream – _could Max ever really look at me like that?_ his mind argued – until she went on, " ... and here you are, looking ..."

Max – _Max_, he marveled – suddenly pressed back into him and, clearly past caring where they were at the moment, kissed him again as she had all those months ago, as she had when he'd fallen flat on his ass and Max hadn't given a damn that he had...

...and even his mangled sanity had to concede that this was no dream...

More long moments passed before Max pulled away and leaned against his chest, reveling in the feeling she had, being in his arms. "All the time in the world, though, right?" she whispered.

"Cross my heart." His words were immediate, soft ... and, Max realized, the first ones that truly sounded like Logan that she'd heard since her return. She looked up into his eyes quickly, wondering at that, feeling the damned tears filling them again. Logan's mouth quirked into a rueful half smile to see it and even managed a self-conscious chuckle, tipping his head toward the building. "Max, you know there's food in there..."

"I know," she drawled, not wanting the moment to end. "I've just found that I needed to rearrange my priorities here lately – at least for a few minutes."

He looked long into the deep chocolate eyes that met his and wondered that this new reality for them might just be possible, if it was true that the FBI – and his cousin – was out there at that very moment, dismantling Manticore. The Max he'd known before she left _had_ been growing in her trust for him, without a doubt, and had even shown him she had feelings for him – who knew where things might have led had Zack not interrupted them, that fateful night after their 'anniversary.' Even so, Max was Max, and he never thought she would be comfortable in permanency or promise...

Now he wasn't so sure.

She'd avoided putting down roots before so it was easier to go back on the run when needed. With Manticore gone, most of her reasons for running had ended. It was even possible that if Manticore was outed, and its secrets spilled, Max could be freer to admit who and what she was – even seek protection, if need be, from the likes of the South Africans, who had gotten as far as they had thanks to their ties, however poisonous, with Manticore. And with them gone, so much was possible...

"Welcome home, Max," Logan breathed, and this time, believed it...

**XLVIII**

Tony closed his laptop, having finished a report for Gitry about his actions in taking the Director of Manticore into custody – and his eyewitness account of Lydecker's attempt to murder her. Handing the small flash drive where he'd saved it to another agent, he ambled over to the monitors, then to the facility plans, and then to the evidence log and the tech who was coordinating its collection – all in a casual but careful move closer and closer to the exit ...

The agents surrounding the place had seen him there since the beginning of their assault on the place, and knew he had full access to the facility, so each gave him a cursory, even dismissive nod. _Fine, you Feeble Feebs want to think I'm worthless in all this, you just keep thinkin' that,_ Tony thought toward the still young probies as he passed them. _I have work to do._

And people to interview.

He walked across the large expanse of wooded lawn behind the main hospital and toward the old superintendent's home, thoughts darkening. As he wasn't really involved in the investigation and evidence collection at this stage, his thoughts were allowed to wander about what this all meant – and the more he considered what would be faced in the next weeks and months, the more he worried.

_So what do they do now?_ He wondered about the Department of Justice and how they would handle all this. _They've got, what, at least seventy five or eighty of 'em in there – would they be considered victims, deserving to be released from their captivity?_ Certainly not still government property, to be manipulated and used as they had been all this time...

But as was becoming more and more clear, with a few exceptions, they had all been cloistered away from the rest of the world. They didn't seem to have much idea at all about what was going on beyond Manticore's fence, whether that was current events ... or social mores ... or what was legal and what, illegal...

The whole thing was well beyond DiNozzo's expertise, but he knew two things, cold: first – _the captives had a right to be freed._ They'd been incarcerated without any basis for years, some for decades, and at the hand of the U.S. government. U.S. citizens, too; no way could anyone make a legitimate argument that they weren't, at least not under existing laws because, after all, who would have thought to write laws for hand-made, human-other mixes? He thought of some of the criminal defense lawyers with whom he'd been faced, over the years, and he thought about what a field day they'd have, screaming about government abuses and torture. _Well, hell, they'd be right this time, wouldn't they?_

But almost as disturbing – he knew as many government prosecutors who would make an excellent case to detain them using the standard for involuntary detention – 'a danger to oneself or others.' And until some assessments could be done, plans made, information disseminated – what judge would risk _not_ agreeing with the premise that a bio-engineered assassin, without any knowledge of customs or laws, without any community ties and, possibly, without conscious for those 'ordinaries' the likes of whom had been the transgenics' jailers and torturers for so many years, was, at the very least, a danger to the community? At least until they could be ... what? Educated? '_Re_-educated?'

...and even that one thought conjured up in Tony's head countless sci-fi, post-apocalyptic films, none of which spoke well of 're-education.' _Guess it depends on who's doing the educating_, he decided. He wouldn't even consider yet what would be done about those whose response to an offer of 'free education' would be, "No thanks. Out _now_, please."

Well. He would do his part to see if this couldn't run a bit more smoothly than it might. He'd gather some intel here and, making good on his implication to Gitry, pull in the pros before they had a chance to stop him. He dialed as he walked, glancing once at his watch as he heard the expected voice. "Hey Rachel, it's Tony. Is Barb available? ...oh." He listened as his fiancee's assistant reminded him she was on the Hill today. "Look – I need maybe two minutes with her as soon as possible, but a private call, okay? Tell her to find a broom closet or something." He heard the expected reaction of the assistant, now well used to him, and he spoke again. "Thanks, Rach."

Disconnecting the call, he shoved his phone in his pocket and walked even more quickly. He wouldn't have much time before others saw the same dilemmas he'd figured out – and some of those people would have the power to start making decisions that could have long-term – and negative – consequences. Knowing bureaucrats, they'd soon weigh in with rules and confidentiality agreements and psychological testing and who knew what else, all of which sounded as if it would keep the transgenics prisoner even longer – and longer than reasonable...

_Hell, DiNizzo, what is 'reasonable' when you're talking about imprisonment?_

He broke into a jog. It might not get his answers any faster, but it helped work of some of the growing concern he felt growing for Max's extended family...

**XLIX**

It took Logan only a very few minutes to fill his box with what he needed: an assortment of vegetables, rice, and even a small package of rare almonds for dinner; some pantry staples like bread, cereal and crackers, peanut butter, honey and jelly, even flour, sugar, powered milk and a variety of canned foods that could be used in a pinch. He added dried noodles and beans to his stash and turned around to look for Max.

And quickly found her looking at the garishly packaged junk food, their overly salty or overly sweet contents not ever a big part of Max's diet, as far as he knew. He came up to her and offered, with a growing smile, "if you want something, just throw it in with the rest..."

She glanced up at him and smiled self-consciously, shrugging toward the mediocre offerings. "Funny; I never really got what was so great about all this stuff – especially after finding my very own gourmet cook to feed me." Her own smile broadened to see his in response, "but when I was back inside ... they never really held back on feeding us, unless it was some experiment or punishment or something. They were all about feeding their army, so we had lots of fresh fruit and vegetables, and the rest wasn't fancy but it was okay. But they never had anything like this," her gaze went back to the sugary, mass produced cookies and cakes with their supposedly catchy names. "Nothing just for a fun snack, or something with no nutritional value at all. Made me sort of crave them, once or twice..."

"Good enough reason to get a few..."

"A few," she echoed, with a laugh. "Probably one will be enough for me to remember why I didn't bother with them much before..."

"Go on, Max," Logan encouraged. "Maybe a bit of a homecoming to tide you over until we can make you a _real_ dinner..."

She grinned again. "Okay," she agreed, and picked out a couple snack cakes to put in the box. With a sudden shift in her expression, she turned back to get two more and added them in. "For a new friend out there, who was helping me get out when Tony showed up." Her smile was softer now. "Someone you need to meet, too."

Logan nodded silently, seeing that Max was again feeling that need to get back to the place where she'd so recently been a captive. Lifting an eyebrow in question, he asked, "anything else we need, at least for now? Anything for the car, a snack or something to drink?"

With his words, she looked back up at him and marveled at this dramatic reminder of how giving he was, how good to her Logan Cale always tried to be. "I'll just have one of those," she tipped her chin toward the paper-wrapped cakes, and tried, "what about you? You'll need something to make it to dinner, too..."

"I got some cheese and we have both crackers and some flatbread in there. A little of that will hold me."

"Are you sure?" Max's voice was soft and now was threaded with some of the concern he'd seen earlier. "You look thinner than when I left, Logan – maybe you ought to have more..."

"Just for you – I'll have a few extra," he smiled his reassurance to her. "...and maybe even..." he leaned over to pick up a brightly colored package. "One of these..."

**L**

"Hey, Joshua – "

"Tony!" The canine features raised in a smile to see his new acquaintance again, standing in his doorway. He seemed to sniff a little, testing the air, before asking, "Max come back?"

"Not yet, but she said she planned to later today. Not sure when she'll make it but I know she will." Tony stood awkwardly as the big man stood blinking at him, clearly not used to being the master of the house. "Hey, I came to talk with you for a bit. Okay if I come in?"

"Okay." Joshua turned and walked back into the house, leaving Tony to follow. Closing the door behind him, he asked, "how are you doin' out here? Do you think you'll use the house?"

"Nice. Joshua not been in house in many years. And – not usually allowed upstairs. Windows," he explained, nodding toward the many large windows around the front room. "Joshua would like to stay."

Tony managed not to react at the matter of fact way Joshua described his life, being hidden from view. "Okay – I asked the agent in charge, and she said ..." He hesitated, and explained, "...in charge of ... of the Manticore shut down," he explained. "She may not be in charge much longer, but she's fine with it and I see no reason others wouldn't be, too. Seems only fair," he added, unable to help himself.

"Why she not in charge much longer?" Joshua asked.

Tony shrugged. "Well, this is all ..." What could he say? "All this that Manticore did – all the people, and the projects – they broke _lots_ and lots of laws doing it, Joshua. Gitry's a fine agent, but this is going to get a lot of attention – so they'll be bringing out the big guys, not local agents like Gitry. They're going to do what they can to control how the information gets out to the world."

Joshua nodded sadly. "People afraid of what looks different."

At the keen insight, Tony looked up in some surprise, and saw the sad look shift to be even a bit sadder, but resigned. Surprised at how that affected him, he realized, "you probably know more about that than anyone."

"Joshua have long experience with 'different,'" he agreed.

"Part of what I wanted to talk to you about. And Brin, too, if she's still here."

"She went back to see if she could find other X-5s – Max's brother and sister – _her_ brother and sister. Joshua has big house – others can share if they want. Brin says maybe. And maybe her brother and sister – "

"Krit and Syl?"

"Krit and Syl," Joshua agreed.

Tony nodded, wondering how in the world there could be an easy way to undo all the damage done by Manticore. "Well. Until they get here – wanna talk?"

_TBC..._


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: I know the updates have been slow but I have a very soft spot for this AU and as time allows, I will continue to update. As far as my own little head is concerned, this is still AU-S2's 1st episode – maybe a two- parter, but still, I see lots ahead. If you're still hanging in, thanks – we will get there, I promise. All reviews, thoughts, quibbles and other reactions welcome.

**Designation? What Designation?**

**LI**

As they settled in for the drive out to the old hospital, Max opened two of the snack cakes she'd bought and pulled back the wrapper on one, handing it to Logan, who popped the cruise control button on the accelerator's hand control and released it to take the small package.

Max bit into her own, and chewed for a moment before holding the package up to examine it, critically. "Now I remember why I never bought many of these things," she laughed softly.

"This one's not bad," Logan chuckled as he munched. "I'll trade if you want."

"Whatcha got?" She looked over and saw his yellowish, tube shaped cake with a very white, very airy looking filling. "Ugh, yours looks worse." She glanced up at him, caught his eye, and they both grinned at the sheer banality of their discussion, its boring _normalcy_. Knowing they'd shared a flash of irony at suddenly discussing such inconsequential, mundane things, and had each appreciated being back to them, Max laughed softly and admitted. "I missed stupid stuff like this."

"Me too." Logan's grin softened as he glanced away from the road again to her. Max was pleased to see his glances were becoming less intense, as if he was more willing to trust that if he looked away for a moment or two, she'd still be there. She understood the feeling he must have had – she was fighting it herself.

The next minutes were quiet as they rode in silence, eating sugary, tasteless junk food and settled into their own thoughts – of their reunion, of what all had happened in the past months, of what must lie ahead. As Logan finished his cake and crumpled the wrapper, stuffing it into a nook in the console between them, Max reached over to thread her fingers though his. He opened his long fingers wider, and wrapped her hand in his. He seemed to settle a little more with her action. His smile settled a little, too, looking as if he finally might be remembering how to feel anything other than pain.

"Thanks for coming along out here, too," Max finally began, knowing she needed to give him more of an idea than she had about what he'd find there. "I don't think anyone has any ideas for what happens next."

"The FBI is shutting down Manticore, isn't it? There will be some sort of investigation, I'd think – at least to see who gave the orders and which were followed. If they want to put blame somewhere, they'd have to decide if it's more on those who dreamed up the program, or if the program got perverted along the way, once out of the originators' hands."

"Hmm," Max mused, "I hadn't thought of that. You mean, like good research used for bad purposes?" He shrugged, and she considered it. "Yeah, that's one explanation."

"I imagine there are lots of possibilities," Logan went on, "but for that very reason, especially how big it became, and over how long – they'll want to know how things developed and who knew what was going on."

"I always heard it went pretty far up the chain of command," Max considered. "And they've dodged every bullet so far. What if they throw off the FBI?"

"There'd probably still be an investigation – at least to contain their damage, avoid too much leaking out to the public – and to find out who let their guard down to end up in the FBI's net. The good news for you is that no matter what, there are suddenly far too many people and too many government entities who now have first hand knowledge about what they've done – all those troops out there, all the FBI agents, even Tony and the people at NCIS who got word about what he's up to right now. It's not like back when Lydecker could just pay a visit on everyone associated with the program and kill them off."

"I don't know, Logan – there were a lot of people then, too..."

"But all contained within Manticore – no outside agencies. Here you have at least three – the FBI, NCIS and the Marines. They're all independent organizations, each with their own administration and supervising authorities, all which just got word about what's been going on. And they're not hand-picked employees without families likely to overhear some of the inside info, or to report them missing. It will all be out in the open, at least relatively. And if it goes as I think it might, Max – you won't need to worry about hiding from them anymore."

Max blinked, dropping back against her seat as she stared at the road ahead, seeing only the world of possibilities suddenly opening before her. She hadn't thought that far ahead yet, and hadn't thought through all the implications. _Everyone ever on my tail was related to Lydecker and his mission to get us back or kill off anyone with information. And if that's been neutralized...._ She was silent as her thoughts careened ahead in an explosive burst, heady with the sense of sudden freedom, before finally looking back to Logan with an awed anticipation in her eyes. "So ... that's it? No more running? I didn't lie to Cindy, then – Seattle really _can_ be home?"

Logan swallowed the emotion he felt in seeing and hearing what that one, powerful realization did for her. "Finally it will be up to you, what you _want_ – not what you have to do to survive." At his glance to her, he saw Max's eyes brimming with tears, and for another brief, surreal moment wondered if this was yet another, too-perfect hallucination. "And if it's Seattle ..."

He couldn't finish, he wouldn't risk saying anything that might add outside considerations to her choice, now that it was hers to make – and wouldn't risk jinxing her apparent choice to stay.

Max turned back to Logan, gazing at him with new eyes, able to imagine him in her life in ways she never really believed were possible. It wasn't like they were suddenly his country club set – hell, they were on their way to a challenge that was just starting to rear its ugly head, as more agencies than either could guess would be rushing around, trying to fix the Manticore mess, to bury it or hide it or repair it or make amends for it; they still, even with all that, made up the brain and the brawn of Eyes Only.

But from what Logan had said ... she was no longer on anyone's "most wanted" list. She would have freedoms she never dreamed of having. She could come fully out into the light, and could look toward having the sort of life that could only be had by someone who knew they could put down roots and make a home with family, with friends ...

... with a man she loved...

"If you and Seattle will have me ..." Max felt the lump in her throat thicken as she saw Logan's expression turn from measured, careful hope to emotional, joyful relief, "then yeah – Seattle is home..."

**LII**

"Whoa..."

Krit stopped short, as if he'd been slapped, as he came face to face with his own image – or, rather, his image if he'd been dressed in colorless fatigues, his hair clipped shorter than he usually wore it, and there wasn't the stain of grease and dirt imbedded around his fingernails that no amount of scrubbing seemed to erase. The man in the cell was his clone, no doubt; he had heard only rumors here and there that they each might have a doppelgänger out there somewhere. But even here, running into his double was the last thing he'd expected.

For his part, the man on the other side of the heavy steel door rose slowly to see him, wary as well, but came toward the cell's small window. "You ... are X5-517?"

Krit nodded mutely. He licked his lips, narrowed his eyes, then gave his double a head to toe appraisal. "What a good looking guy," he finally grinned, his eyes twinkling. "And who might you be?"

The other snorted. "X5-518. As if it isn't obvious."

"Well, it's _not_," Krit shot back. "I mean, you could be X5-516 ... or X5-519. X5-520. Guy like us, hey, why not make a dozen or so before they break the mold?"

"That wasn't what they did. The X5 series made only two of each genetic set; the later series were generated before they..."

"Hey, dude, lighten up – it was a joke," Krit interrupted. "I guess a sense of humor must be nurture, not nature, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know," Syl sided up to Krit and drawled, "you're both sense of humor tone-deaf." She looked into the small window that had her brother riveted, and managed to hide her own, surprised reaction to seeing someone who looked so like her brother, but was still so clearly Manticore.

"Hey, Krit," she dead-panned, her eyes not leaving his clone as she spoke to her brother beside her. "You clean up nice."

"Maybe you've got a clone around here, too, Syl..."

"X5-401?" The clone asked her.

She nodded slowly, knowing he was going to supply the answer to Krit's statement, and not fully sure she wanted to know. "Yeah..."

"Your clone, X5-402, was lost on a mission. We ..." For the first time the soldier showed more than only the stoic, military facade, and both of the '09ers knew he was speaking the truth, one that disturbed even a perfectly trained soldier. "We were under extreme conditions and were unable to retrieve her in time to bring her back here, to revive her. They ..." He paused again, and a flash of anger was quickly damped behind a mask of stoic professionalism. "The Director decided she would be of most use in post-mortem autopsy."

Unbidden, Syl felt a surge of sorrow, as if she had lost a sister she'd never been able to meet. Tears stung her eyes as she felt Krit's hand grip her shoulder in silent support. Blinking away the tears, Syl asked, "how many more?" The man behind the door frowned slightly, not understanding the question, and she asked, "in your squad – how many X5s did they make as pairs to those of us who escaped?"

"All of you." At the surprise registering on the faces on the other side of the door, X5- 518 explained, "there were two sets of X5s developed simultaneously, at parallel facilities. When you escaped ... they re-evaluated both programs, in their entirety. They put all of us, and all of those you left behind from your unit," he added, a ring of accusation there, "through Psy-Ops, until they determined why you escaped and how to avoid the rest of us doing so." The man's features gave nothing away as he recounted the macabre results of their bid for freedom. "Some of us ... did not survive." He finally met Krit's eyes and said, emotionlessly. "I am glad to see, at least, that you did."

Krit seemed rooted in place, staring back at his clone, unspeaking, until Syl stepped nearly between them and shook his shoulder a little. "Krit? C'mon, we're wasting time – they're going to miss us pretty soon, or come looking around here themselves, or both. We have to find Zack."

She started to move on down the hall, when Krit spoke to his double. "Do you know what happened to him? X5- 599. He was captured when Max – 452– was brought in."

X5- 518's eyes darkened for the moment before he spoke. "He killed himself so X5-452 could have his heart. They did as he wished and harvested his heart to give to her. But as they did, they salvaged hers and, over the weeks that they worked to repair the damage he did to his brain ... they regenerated her heart, and gave it to him. They have been working over these months to restore him." At the look shared between Krit and Syl, one he understood as sorrow for a fallen comrade, he added, not unkindly, "it is unlikely that he will be the man you knew. From what I saw ... the damage was extensive and even if they wanted to let him keep his memories, it is doubtful that he would have retained much."

Krit again stared into the eyes of his twin, now assessing the information he'd shared, before finally nodding to ask, "where do we find him?"

"I don't know that he will still be there, but the last time I saw him – ten days ago, perhaps – he was in the lab one floor below, in the far southwest corner of the facility. The lab is in the secure section identified as waste treatment processing, behind the door labeled biohazard storage." At their expression, he finally relented, "even the Director didn't want anyone to see what they were doing with him."

**LIII**

Tony had been at Joshua's for about thirty minutes when he realized he hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of not only what the big man had to offer in the way of information, but what they would uncover at the facility a few hundred yards away.

And he also hadn't begun to scratch the surface of how the man could be best debriefed – Joshua was trying his best, and the investigator in him was confident that it could be done, but Tony saw a long, difficult road ahead. He knew he wouldn't be around for that part of things and even if he wanted to be, was unlikely to be allowed in on the actual interviews. Still ...

"Joshua, let's see what the Director left you in her cupboard." Tony stood abruptly, needing a break and suspecting Joshua did too. Knowing he wouldn't get everything done in one visit, he hoped for a comfortable, easy demeanor, to ease as much general information from Joshua as he could, while he had time. He headed out to the kitchen, tossing over his shoulder, "how about some coffee? She's got to have some, somewhere."

The canine-human followed DiNozzo into the large, old-fashioned kitchen and watched as the agent looked from one cupboard to the next, then crowed a little in satisfaction when he opened a canister to find the dark brown grounds. As the human looked at him with a big, happy grin, he admitted, "Joshua never have coffee."

DiNozzo looked back at him in mild surprise. "Really?"

"Joshua tell the truth," he said with a slightly puzzled look.

"Oh – sorry, Joshua; yeah, I didn't mean you _didn't_," Tony explained patiently, "that's just something you say when you're kinda surprised – I just didn't expect you not to have tried coffee."

"Oh." Joshua watched the agent work with as much assurance as would an X5, even though he had never been in that kitchen or seen that coffee machine before, filling the glass bowl with water and pouring it in the machine – something Joshua knew was done, but still not understanding when it was okay to pour water into machines and plug them in, and when it was dangerous. Tony pulled out the little basket and shoved in a paper he found by the coffee, then put some of the brown stuff in. "Joshua like to smell coffee," Joshua went on. "Father used to have coffee every morning and every dinner time. Smell reminds Joshua of Father," he said wistfully.

Tony looked back at the man, hearing the universal sound of loss in his voice, and again wondered at the life this man must have suffered. "Well, you're welcome to try this, but I gotta warn ya – most people, even if they like the smell, don't like it on the first try. It's an acquired taste."

"'Acquired taste,'" Joshua repeated softly, sounding out the idea.

"And a lot of people start off by adding in sugar, or milk, or both – something to cut back the bitter taste. And what's worse – I don't think the Director bought the good stuff – this smells kind of cheap. And I'm guessing at how much to put in. So it won't be the best..."

"But Tony make and drink anyway?"

DiNozzo's grin was quick, "well, yeah – need me some coffee, Joshua." He set the machine to brew and went back to looking through the cupboards, "well, there's not a lot here, but there's some basic stuff – probably more in the mess hall's kitchen if you wanted real food." He had a sudden thought, and turned to him. "When did you last eat, Joshua? Are you hungry?"

"Got dinner from mess hall last night," the man replied. "Got apple after lights out."

"Look, if you're hungry, let's get you something – look around here, or we can go back over to..."

His phone rang. Pulling it out, he glanced at the display and grinned, "'scuse me a sec, Joshua; it's my cousin... 'Cuz," he answered at the second ring. "Why are you ignoring Max to call me?" Tony couldn't help note that Joshua's eyes lit up at the mention of his friend's name.

"Because we're about twenty minutes out – thought maybe it would be a good idea to check in with you first, to be sure Max can ease back in and they don't have a problem with my being there."

Joshua grinned, clearly having heard Logan's words on the other end of the call. Tony smiled back toward Joshua as he spoke. "Won't be a problem. Tell Max that Joshua and I are at the Director's house, debriefing – meet us here. She'll know where to find us."

"Okay – we'll see you in twenty."

"Good. Oh, and hey, 'cuz..." DiNozzo couldn't help add, "you sound pretty good, there. You doin' okay?"

There was a dry chuckle on the other end before his cousin spoke, his voice filled with the joy of having his beloved back home. "I'm perfect," he said simply. "Cuz – maybe, some day, I can find a way to say thank you in a way that could match what I'm feeling – but until I do – thanks for bringing Max home," he said simply.

"Awfully glad you were right about her being alive, Logan," Tony said, his own emotion at events tough to hide. "We'll see you in a few minutes," he ended the call and looked up to see a thoughtful expression on Joshua's face.

"Max trying to escape to go find someone she loves," he said.

Tony blinked up at the sudden revelation. "Did she say that?"

"Didn't have to. In her face. In her eyes. Max escape – to go find man named 'Cuz?'"

Tony's grin was soft as he shook his head. "She escaped to find my cousin – my 'cuz' – a man named Logan."

"Your cousin?" Joshua asked, and, as an afterthought, asked with a grin, "_really?_"

DiNozzo laughed. "Really." He opened the refrigerator and peered in, to turn back to the new lord of the manor with a grin. "Hey, Joshua! Looks as if you might have some decent food here after all."

**LIV**

As soon as Max had heard that this other man, Joshua, was with his cousin, Logan had noticed a shift in Max's demeanor – she smiled in something like affection. But before he could feel even a moment's jealousy, Max had squeezed his hand and said, "I'm glad you'll be meeting Joshua – he helped me get away, and he helped us take down the Director. He's ..." she hesitated; unlike Max, she seemed to be finding it difficult to express her thoughts. "I hope you'll like him."

"Is he...?"

She nodded and said quickly, before he could finish, "he's a transgenic, too."

"Another X5?"

She shook her head and drawled, "no – he's unique." She smiled again, and shrugged. "You'll see."

"Tony's there with him?" he asked. Logan was determined to get through everything ahead of them at the facility, and would do anything and everything he could to think to do to make things easier on Max, to the very best of his ability. He knew he'd heard only the tip of the iceberg, but he desperately wanted to prove to her – and to himself – that whatever she went through, he could deal with it, for her sake. Hearing now that some transgenic had befriended her out there, he wanted to be sure he didn't say or do the wrong thing, even if to just avoid some awkwardness – Max didn't need any more hassles added to everything else going on. Hearing that his cousin was already in the thick of things with this "Joshua" made him relax a little – if Tony was okay with the guy, certainly he would be, too – or at least Tony would help him get there.

They neared the facility, and Logan frowned to see an armed Marine at the gate. He slowed to roll down the window and wondered if he needed to call Tony again – but the Marine spoke first. "Was told to expect a dirty Aztek bearing two, sir. Your name?"

"Logan Cale," he answered as he relaxed into a smirk at Tony's description given to the guard. At least his cousin had thought ahead to cover for them. He wondered what else Tony must have said to get them inside so easily.

"Some ID, sir?" Logan reached for his wallet and pulled out his driver's license and sector ID. He handed both to the Marine, who glanced at them efficiently before returning them. "Thank you, sir. Special Agent DiNozzo asks that you go check in with him before going on to the rest of the facility."

"Thank you," Logan nodded. Driving in, he followed Max's silent point toward the right, and he murmured, "that was easier than I thought."

"Probably helps that you look like one of the agents in charge," she smirked. She almost missed his snort as he conceded her point, looking ahead to the house. A sudden chill took her as she wondered what Logan would make of it all – the place ... the militaristic training she'd been forced back into doing ... the whole lot of miserable, sad, hapless beings that made up the Manticore zoo, herself included. Would this be what finally got through to him, letting him get the idea of who – and _what_ – she really was? Would he finally understand exactly how much of a science experiment she was? And if he did ... would he be as able to handle it as he said he was?

"Hey – you okay?" She broke her reverie to realize he'd stopped the car, still a good many yards away, and looked at her in caring, loving concern. Maybe he'd tried speaking to her; maybe he'd caught her shiver. Either way – he knew something had gotten to her. He reached again for her hand. "You don't have to do _any_ of this, Max, if it's too hard to come back..."

"That's not it," she shook her head immediately, and felt the weight of her emotions bring the tears than now welled in her eyes. To come so far, to give so much trust ... what would she do if he freaked out about it all? "I ... I'm afraid that ... Logan, when you see what this is ... and see what I am..."

He raised a gentle hand to her cheek, cupping her jawline softly. "What I see – is that you're a miracle. _My_ miracle. You came back from the dead... and you came back to me. I'm too blinded by all of that to see anything else," he said softly. "If that's what has you afraid – then you have nothing to fear, Max. I promise you that."

She wavered, looking into the eyes that were absolutely certain of his words, then leaned her forehead onto his. He shifted once, quickly, for a gentle kiss, then returned to rest his forehead against hers.

After another moment, she drew a deep breath and sat back, offering a tiny smile. "Let's go."

**LV**

Logan pulled the Aztek up in front of the wide front porch and smiled reassuringly at Max, who, despite her smile and their words earlier, still seemed uncharacteristically nervous. She hopped out of the car and as Logan got out, he heard the front door open and in a moment, saw a blurring shape of a large, flannel clad man come bounding through the door, his long, shaggy hair flying as his delighted greeting was clear.

"Macks! You came back!"

Logan came around as his petite, able warrior was all but invisible to him, engulfed in a bear-hug by the man he had to assume was Joshua. "Of course I did, Big Fellah," Logan barely heard, muffled in the hug. Logan stood by, staring at the large, flannel back, feeling a little awkward, but waiting for introductions.

"Hey, Joshua – come meet Logan," he heard her say, and the bear hug began to release her. Logan was ready for anything, and, cue given, he began his most pleasant smile. "Joshua," he heard Max begin, " this is..."

Logan froze – and stared. Up. Up, into a grin of fangs and sparking canines and a wolven face... He stammered. "I ... I ..."

Behind the teeth and the hair and the whiskers, the door slammed, and soft sound of tac shoes on wooden planks cut into his stunned silence.

"Logan, what's wrong with you?" The voice of his cousin, as always, slightly humored, wry, and glib, filled the air. "Haven't you seen a guy with a little canine DNA in him before?"

Logan blinked. He looked up at the completely bland, matter of fact expression on his cousin's face, the grin that spit Joshua's dog-like features as the transgenic glanced back up at DiNozzo, and the hopeful smile of his beloved Max – all unfolding before him in a more surreal scene than any of his most powerful hallucinations – and he suddenly grinned too, coloring at his gaffe. Hell, if his former cop, government agent cousin could so effortlessly incorporate transgenics into his universe, what was taking him so long to do the same? With a quirked grin toward DiNozzo, Logan looked back to the huge man and offered a hand. "Don't know what's wrong with me, Joshua, sorry." He even relaxed a little when his hand was taken in the large paw of a hand, and was pumped enthusiastically. "Good to meet you..."

"Joshua too. Good to meet "'Cuz Logan."

And the beam on Max's face in response made Logan want to meet the whole damn litter...

**TBC...**


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER**: Characters and situations borrowed from Dark Angel and NCIS. No profits made.

_**Please see chapter 1 for story and character information.**_

**A/N**: Again, sorry to update so slowly, but RL is making my fic time pretty short anymore. There is more ahead, and I know where it's going, so there will be a whole story here, even if it takes a while.

Thanks to everyone for your notes and reviews; they help let me know people are still reading! All reviews & reactions welcome.

**Designation? What Designation?**

**LVI**

Logan looked up from the counter, where he had been dicing celery and peppers, to the scene at the kitchen's table, again wondering if he hadn't simply slipped around the bend this time. Max was there, his beautiful Max, healthy and glowing and talking with a huge, hairy man, who looked as much canine as human, and with his cousin, who was in agent mode, in service parka, with his badge – and gun – clearly visible.

Logan had been steered to the kitchen almost on arrival by his cousin, who announced that they had just been raiding the fridge to get Joshua, who hadn't eaten since the day before, something to eat, and that with Logan's uptown cooking skills it would be crazy for them not to impose. Logan wasn't sure if Tony directed him to the kitchen immediately to give him something to do as he got used to the large transgenic, who was happily catching up with Max, or to coax a better meal out of the random assortment of food stuffs left by the former resident. After the third time he caught himself furtively staring at Joshua's hairy hands and flat, canine nose, he glanced over to catch his cousin's wink and grin, and he suspected it was both.

It was Tony who let him believe that it was all real. Since their arrival, despite his wink and light-hearted words, Tony had been the Tony he'd seen only once or twice before, the one Logan now believed was how he must always be when on a case: outwardly calm, relaxed, joking softly and adeptly when the circumstances called for it, but not the Tony his cousin knew off duty, able to be himself. _This_ Tony's eyes were hardened, determined, missing nothing – and he listened with far sharper, analytical focus than he did even when they battled over a basketball. His cousin's demeanor told him that this was all very real – and that something back in the main facility was still very grim. And the more that Max and Joshua said as they sat there, waiting for Logan to turn the contents of the Director's refrigerator into a quick lunch, the more Logan began to understand just what might lie ahead, a mere quarter mile across the property.

The moment after Logan looked up again, Tony glanced his way to meet his eyes and offer a small, tired grin, genuine, but still carrying the weight of what he'd seen that morning. Unobtrusively, he took a step away from the pair of transgenics and the cozy kitchen nook, and brought his coffee cup back in to "refill" it. Pouring only a small amount on top of what was an already hot, mostly full mug, Tony then crossed over to where Logan tossed the freshly chopped vegetables with some of the chicken he'd found in the fridge, fresh from a Seattle deli.

"Hey, cuz, you don' alright, here?" Tony watched as Logan scooped out a large portion of the chicken salad he'd made onto the heavy whole-grain bread from the pantry, making one large and three smaller sandwiches. DiNozzo's practiced eye took in his cousin's still-pale face, and was reassured to see that the desperate pain and frayed emotions there just yesterday had been replaced by a look that sometimes alternated between disbelief and relief, but was mostly a wholehearted acceptance and joy that the woman he loved had returned. "I gotta figure that it was one hell of a roller coaster morning for you."

"The _good_ kind," Logan said softly. "Tony, one of these days I'll want to hear it all, but right now I almost don't care what got us to this point – just ..." He paused, again having no words in response to the thought that finally, Manticore, with all its crimes and abuses, was finally being thrown out into the open – and that his own cousin was right in the middle of its defeat. "I don't know how to explain how much it means, and how much it means to have you be a part of it."

Tony's eyes softened a little as his grin quirked again, and he clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Like I said, payback for me, too." Unconsciously, his eyes flickered back to Joshua, not unnoticed by Logan.

"How bad is it in there, Tony?" Logan asked softly. When his cousin looked back to him, Logan shrugged, "if it was all over now and everything was fine, you wouldn't look like you do now. We all wanted Manticore off the map and if everything was done and over, you'd be high-fiving me now. What is it?"

Tony wavered, his eyes telling Logan how much more there was to this story, before he finally said, softly, "imagine dozens of 'Joshuas' suddenly let out of this place – finally free, but no place to go, no income or training or shelter ... and out among the same crowds of people who go ape-shit at the thought of a mere _foreigner_ in their neighborhoods." He sighed. "Then imagine a dozen more who look as non-human as Joshua, but without much language or reasoning capability ... and another couple dozen who look like Max, but have been programed that anyone outside of Manticore is the enemy." As Logan's forehead drew into a frown, Tony added, "add to that a whole alphabet soup of government agencies waking up to early morning intel about it all, and their spinners and handlers who will want to distort or manipulate or hide what happened, or the politicians who will want to make something of this for their own hot button issues..."

Logan blinked, the enormity sinking in, and Tony nodded, seeing he "got" it. "But at least it will be exposed, and the monsters shut down, maybe even punished ... won't they?"

Tony shrugged, "probably, at least most of them, and to some extent, even if it's not what they deserve. But for all of their victims – will it be worse for them, in the long run?"

"You're giving them their freedom, Tony," Logan insisted.

"Freedom to be persecuted by their neighbors? To starve or be run out of town?" Tony shook his head, "I don't know if we'll be in time, but I called Barb and am hoping she can get her office involved before anything else gets started."

Logan's eyes lighted at that, at the implications. "That would ... Tony, if they would establish some sort of assistance or funding ... How many transgenics are there?"

"I saw eighty, maybe – hard to say, and we're not sure how many may have been off-site." He shrugged. "It's all timing, now, though – the FBI is still in charge, but they won't let the local SAC keep it for long. Still, until someone else takes over – we might have some play. For once, the slow grind of bureaucracy may help us, and until I'm given a direct order to stand down I'm going to see what we can do." He looked down to see the sandwiches lined up, waiting, as Logan wrestled with the information, and he tipped his head. "But you have a couple hungry mouths to feed," Tony offered another tired grin, "and the sooner we get them fed, the sooner we can head over and see what's going on now."

He grabbed a couple of the plates as Logan did to cross back to where Max sat with Joshua, catching up. At Logan's appearance at her side, Max looked up to him with a warm, affectionate smile and lifted an arm to his back, softly tracing along his ribs where she knew he'd feel the contact, too. He handed the largest sandwich to Joshua but had eyes only for Max, moved both by just having her back again and by her own expression for him.

"Thank you, Logan."

Joshua's words interrupted Logan's thoughts, and he looked to Joshua with a bit of embarrassment, to still be so unhinged by Max's return. He smiled and nodded, finding it a little easier with every moment to look at the man without gaping. As the large canines bit into his sandwich, devouring a third of it in one bite, Logan saw Joshua's eyes light up in wonder. Without quite having swallowed it all yet, Joshua managed in amazement, "Logan make best food Joshua ever had."

Max beamed. "He's a great cook, but this isn't even his best, Joshua." She grinned up at Logan in her pride, then looked back to Joshua. "You should see him at work in his own kitchen, with all the right ingredients." She thought for a moment, then realized, " Manticore food was pretty awful – have you ever had a real meal, away from them?"

Joshua considered, the shook his head. "Not 'real meal.' For early years, Joshua live with Father, but Father live at Manticore, so eat with others in big Manticore kitchen."

"In their cafeteria, like here?"

Joshua shook his head. "Early years so early Manticore didn't need cafeteria. Just small group of people were all Manticore had. Didn't get so big until later, when they tried more, like X-4s and X-5s. Before then, Manticore stay pretty small."

Logan was looking at Joshua with a new appreciation in his eyes, and slowly sat as he thought out loud, "Joshua, you must be a walking history of Manticore, if you've been with them all this time..."

Max added softly, "Joshua is our oldest brother – he was the very first of all of us."

Joshua nodded, and looked back to Logan, confirming, "Joshua here with Manticore, all this time."

... and Logan suddenly had a strong feeling that if he thought Max had a rough childhood, he hadn't heard anything yet...

**LVII**

They'd barely begun eating when DiNozzo's phone rang. Stabbing the answer key, he snapped, "yeah – DiNozzo." He paused for several moments, listening; his face darkened. "Then we'll just have to convince him to talk _now_. I can make him see reason." Another short pause and he snorted, "well, they didn't say we couldn't start without them, did they? The more information we have right away, the more we'll have to leak, if the powers that be try to shut you down before we get anywhere." He paused again, very briefly, and asked, "who are they sending, did they say?" At the information, DiNozzo snorted and rolled his eyes, a smirk on his features. "Then you can use me as an excuse – say I sneaked in behind your back while you were dealing with something else. At least my director managed to get me officially tasked in on this, so it won't fall back on you if I'm the cause of the problem, and I promise you that Agent Sachs will believe just about anything you tell him I did to hijack your assignment." After another pause, he grinned a little. "Thought so. You've set up an interview room? Good. Can we start now?" He nodded unconsciously. "Got it. See you in five."

Tony keyed off his phone and looked back to see three pairs of eyes watching him intently. "Seems that Gitry has been told to secure everything but not to do anything more," he explained. "A team is being sent from Washington to take over the investigation."

"Tony, you know that means a cover-up..." Logan began.

"I know, cuz – especially given that they're sending out an old friend to lead the investigation – one of their major case team leaders, and they're liaising with CID. They're due in the morning. Problem is," he went on, almost casually, "we'd hoped that Lydecker might give us some information about the orders and ops they had here. Max, I figured you could be helpful with some of the day to day stuff," he nodded toward her, "and Joshua has given me a lot of information already. But for any of the special ops they're running with some of the X-5s and 6s, any sleeper placements they have – stuff that would have happened behind closed doors – neither of you would be likely to know. We'd hoped we could get info from Lydecker to use in questioning Renfro and interviewing the others here," Tony stood, "but apparently Lydecker isn't interested in saying anything until he gets some assurance that he'll skate on the attempted homicide charges he's facing."

"But he won't – right?" This time it was Max who spoke, jumping to her feet too, matching Logan's knee-jerk reaction at the thought that Lydecker and Manticore might yet again avoid the consequences of all they'd done. "Tony, you said that since we're both witnesses..."

DiNozzo looked at the three others, understanding how important this was to each one. With a soft smile for Max, he zipped his NCIS parka up a little higher. "Not this time, he won't," he promised her. "_They_ won't." He turned toward the door. "I'm going to go give Gitry a hand."

"I'm coming too," Max announced, the phone call making clear what he had planned. "I want to be there."

"Me, too," Logan stood. "If Max is going..."

Tony started to protest, but when Joshua stood more slowly, just blinking in expectation and watching the others, DiNozzo snorted suddenly, with a grin. "What, Joshua, you're not going to demand you crowd in with us, too?"

Joshua looked surprised, looked at the others, and shrugged. "Joshua not cop or X-5 –Tony will do fine without Joshua there to watch."

Tony beamed. Logan and Max were struck with his words and each looked guiltily to DiNozzo, who laughed to see it. "Thanks, Joshua – I'm delighted to know _someone_ here will let me do my job." At his cousin's stammer of protest, he shook it away, "relax, cuz – just entertaining myself." He stopped and cocked his head, looking at the both of them, and a new light came into his eyes. "You know, maybe it would be interesting to have you two in there, too, for what I have in mind – it might mean more to him to know that not only the Feds in on things – but a local reporter and one of his own X-5 graduates." He was quiet for another moment, and seemed to decide it was a good idea. "As long as you go in and just let me do the talking. Total stone faces, both of you – okay?"

Max nodded; Logan murmured an assent. Tony grinned and looked back to Joshua. "Last chance to jump in."

Joshua shook his head. "Joshua not stone-face around Lydecker."

Tony nodded. "An honest man," he mused. "We'll let you know what happens."

**LVIII**

They took Logan's car to the main building, Tony once again on the phone to the FBI agent in charge. He adjusted his badge so it was clearly visible and spoke low to the guard at the entrance to the facility. This time none of them were stopped for more.

Tony clearly knew where he was going, and Logan and Max simply followed in silence. Since they'd gotten into Logan's car they felt the tension building in DiNozzo, and each started wondering exactly what he'd heard in the phone call – and what lay ahead.

First stop was in the communications center, before a petite woman, clearly in charge and looking awfully young for the responsibility. Tony went directly to her, checked in – and pleaded his case. "I know him and I know his history. Let me try – I think I've got his number and the worst I can do is leave you with what you have now – a clammed up witness-suspect who wants a deal to talk."

The woman wavered a moment before letting her eyes flicker over to Logan and Max, just back a step from Tony. Her harried, grim expression suddenly melted as she took a good look at Tony's cousin, and she allowed a small chuckle to lighten her features for the moment. "Well, what do you know – you two really _do_ look alike," she grinned to DiNozzo, then smirked, "and of course, he's NCIS too, because you wouldn't bring an unauthorized civilian into this clusterfuck, would you?"

"Wouldn't even cross my mind," Tony lied smoothly, grinning in response. "You need someone down there too?"

"Hell, no – I don't want my people anywhere close, in case I have to tell Sachs you shot your way in to see him." She shook her head, giving in to the situation. "Of course, you have any luck, it was all my idea."

"Absolutely," Tony nodded, before his face darkened again slightly with his task ahead. "Where do we go?"

**LIX**

Tony slammed the door open and crossed the room to the center table in two long steps. Behind him, Logan and Max followed silently, taking up station at the far wall, watching Lydecker in profile, who made note of their entrance, smirking to see Cale so close at Max's side, and so close behind his cousin. Logan found himself wondering how much of Lydecker's bravado was from the assurance borne of countless previous close calls with arrest, and how much was sheer balls. His musing was broken when Gitry came in as well, despite her earlier words, closing the door and coming over to stand a few feet from his cousin, arms crossed and ready for the interrogation to continue.

Without a word, Tony threw a slim file on the table and pulled out the metal chair across from the colonel to throw a leg over it, sitting with no wasted movement. He leaned onto the table, his cold, direct gaze meeting Lydecker full on. Without pleasantries, he spoke to the others, never breaking his glare at the prisoner. "Colonel Lydecker will cooperate with us by giving us _all_ the information he has about Manticore, the inmates held here, any and all current operations, and all he knows about the training of the X-series and others." DiNozzo's expression was intense, his green eyes boring into the blue ones of the colonel across from him. "His doing so will not be motivated by any promise of leniency regarding his attack on Dr. Renfro, but by the fact that there is a long list of other crimes – felonies, in multiple counts, and under _military_ jurisdiction, not civilian – that could be added to the list. And he knows better than anyone in the room what it would mean to a JAG prosecutor if they added that long list of crimes to his pending charges – and if the NCIS special agent who witnessed his homicide attempt agreed to testify at his sentencing."

Max knew that she kept her face impassive; it was what she'd been trained to do, and the skill had been honed again in her weeks of captivity back with her creators. But she watched Lydecker for a reaction as closely as she knew how, and saw the signs that no one else might notice: _he knew he was running out of options._ He hadn't broken yet; Lydecker, broken, was still something Max could not imagine. But she had never seen him so very aware that he just might not have the same old escape routes this time.

"His cooperation with us here" Tony continued, "and how readily it's offered will be one of the primary matters I intend to communicate to CID." With that last word, Tony stood and, grabbing the file from the table and not looking back, crossed toward the door.

_At least Lydecker knew a cue when thrown one, _Max would think later. For the moment, even seeing what she had just seen in him, his words surprised her. "I would recommend..." Lydecker's voice came evenly, well-modulated. She recognized, in some surprise, that managing that much control stretched his abilities to the limit. "...that each X5 and X6 be interviewed independently. You'll get more reliable information not only about the operations here in the facility, but the details of each mission or operation in which they were involved, and those they were being readied to undertake, if you keep them separated."

DiNozzo stopped at door, now opened, but he didn't bother to turn around "Interrogation 101, Colonel – candidates have to know that much to even be considered for FLETC – but thanks all the same." His words vibrated with sarcasm and dismissal. He started through the door.

"I would also recommend," Lydecker paused, then played what Max could see he thought was the ace up his sleeve. "...that I be the one to conduct the interviews."

Tony stopped again, and turned slowly to study the prisoner, but Gitry couldn't help herself. "We have some practice at that, Colonel..." she drawled, patronizingly – just as Deck had hoped. Max saw him rack up a few points for himself, and heard the old Lydecker self-congratulatory note in his voice when he spoke.

"I would imagine you do – for the usual criminal." His voice again carried a trace of the derisive superiority much more common for him than the more subdued tone he'd affected moments before. "But these soldiers have been trained – _conditioned_ – to respond to only a few officers, for operational security. I am still one of the persons to whom all of those here were ordered to report. I'm confident that even those few remaining on the staff here in PsyOps could not have de-conditioned – or overridden – the order regarding my clearance." There wasn't a soul in the room who doubted the truth of his words – or of the next. "You won't get information from them. I can."

Only Logan noticed that Tony shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing and his head slightly cocked. He was waiting...

"... so ... you see ... my participation is more valuable than you may have originally thought..."

"And your history more storied." DiNozzo took two steps back toward the table but did not sit, glaring down on Lydecker with a cold, decimating stare. "Including the murder of at least two children about a decade ago. Given that I can provide CID with at least three eyewitnesses to one of the murders who are also fact witnesses to the second, you don't have a prayer of avoiding convictions on those crimes. These three witnesses, along with the others likely to make an appearance now that it is safe to do so, will testify to a pattern of physical abuse and systematic torture that would add up to several lifetimes of incarceration, so that your only hope for leniency is to end up in one of the less dank of the hellholes where they can send you." Tony had not blinked nor dropped his assault, even though the prisoner before him was showing signs that he understood – and _believed_ – the truth of his words. "You will offer repeated, unwavering and insightful help because you know that it's the only chance you have to be a free man again, _ever, _the only chance you have to be committed to a facility where you won't become a victim yourself of the sort of abuse you handed those kids – and the only chance you have _not_ to be handed over to those same innocent kids to let them exact the pound of flesh they so richly deserve. Your only real option to survive this mess you've made is to become a walking, breathing encyclopedia of knowledge, offered freely and thoroughly, at every opportunity."

Tony stopped talking but continued to stare into the man's eyes, as if daring him to debate the issue. Max watched, intrigued, as she finally saw something in Lydecker she'd never seen before – fear. It wasn't a simple fear, he was too well trained and experienced for that: it was a calculated, reasoned recognition that his options had just run out, a bowing to the inevitable end of the run.

_He did it,_ Max breathed to herself. _Tony took the bastard out; delivered a punch worthy of the best of us – __**better**__ – he took out that bitch Director and the whole of Manticore, __**and**__ served up Lydecker as dessert..._

The look of defeat in the man who had haunted her first decade in his press for her perfection, and her second decade as he threatened her freedom, gave Max a surge of victory and hope, of release, that she had never felt before in her life: the man who had chased her across the frozen, bleak grasslands of Montana, across the emptiness of Idaho and Nevada, through the cities and rural landscapes of California and back up north as she circled through Oregon and, finally, onto Washington and Seattle, was finally caught as the criminal he was. A tiny hiccup of emotion escaped from her, not missed by Logan – or by Lydecker. His eyes flickered up to hers, unbidden, and she met his gaze, finally free from the power it held over her.

"We'll arrange a room for those interviews immediately," Tony's voice suddenly broke the silence and brought Lydecker's eyes back to his with an alacrity born of years of military indoctrination, "before anyone else from Washington gets here." He had again dismissed Lydecker, Max saw, and was speaking to Gitry in another calculated move. "The more information we have right away, the more you'll have to leak, if the powers that be try to come shut you down before you get anywhere."

Logan watched his cousin with growing appreciation and awe. He'd seen tiny signs of his cousin's investigative side over the years, but he'd never been privvy to an actual interrogation. After all the years of hearing about Gibbs, he suspected he saw quite a bit of Gibbs overlaying his cousin's more lighthearted – but complicated – core nature. And while he knew this one might be unconventional, he suspected that every one of Tony's interrogations might have a bit of unconventionality about them – that was all DiNozzo. That it was so effective and so very personal to Max – to _him_ – made it all the more impressive.

As far as Lydecker and Gitry would have seen, DiNozzo simply turned again toward the door without a word to anyone else, but his eyes flickered over to meet his cousin's, briefly. They gave away nothing, but Logan knew it was a nod for Max and him to follow. Without visible reaction to his cousin, Logan glanced over to Max, whose impassive mask of professionalism confirmed that she must have been feeling just the opposite. Even he had seen how Lydecker had crumpled under the fate Tony described for him. He couldn't imagine what Max would have seen, with the unique history they shared ...

She didn't turn to him, staring hard at a space just above the table in the center of the room. With the barest touch on her hand, Logan brought Max's eyes to him and he tipped his chin toward the door in a tiny, tight movement. Max simply turned in a move as dismissive of Lydecker as Tony's had been to follow DiNozzo from the room. Logan came behind them both.

Tony had gone down the corridor several paces before he stopped to wait for the pair. His demeanor still serious, he looked at Max, saying nothing. Max went toward Tony and stopped only a few inches away. Lifting her face to his, her expression as somber as his, she finally spoke, low. "Thank you," Max said simply, "for every one of us."

Tony nodded, gravely, saying nothing. Logan could see that Tony sensed the enormity of what he had just accomplished, at least in Max's eyes, and in his silent acceptance of her thanks offered his respect to her as a survivor. Logan could only nod and meet his cousin's eyes. "Thank you, cuz" he added softly.

At that, Tony's stern expression softened slightly. "I think it's time to let Logan see the place, Max. Just the two of you, so you can explain..." Both Logan and Max recognized that Tony was steering them away from the initial interviews with Lydecker, probably for the best, so he could provide them with information, uninterrupted by the anger and pain each would likely feel with his words. But Max also knew that Tony sensed her need for Logan to understand what he'd find here, and that such understanding was more likely to come if they had nearly unfettered access to the facility – alone.

She tipped her head in recognition of his offer, and met his eyes. "Good idea," she said softly. "You'll find us if you want us?"

Tony nodded. "I'll let you know how things go. In the meantime – Syl and Krit are around here somewhere, you know – I think they've been snooping around themselves, too. When I last saw them, they were catching up with Brin," Tony wasn't surprised to see the light in Max's eyes at that, given what he'd seen with her other siblings, "and I think they may be warming her up to the idea of a X-5 family picnic."

Tony was touched to see Max's even more emotional response to how her brainwashed sister was taking things, but Logan wasn't at all surprised to see how much it meant to her. "We could look for them first, if you want," he offered softly.

Max turned to him, her smile even more radiant with the tears glittering in her eyes. "They'll be here for a while – first things first," she stepped even closer to the man she loved. "Let me show you around the ol' family home..."


End file.
